Poker Night
by chips2
Summary: Brendan organizes a Poker Night and asks Ste to 'help' him. Ste knows this means helping him cheat. But nothing is as it seems and the night leads to a cascade of events that changes Ste and Brendan's relationship forever...
1. Chapter 1

Event- Brendan's poker night.

Venue- _The Dog in the Pond_ with thanks to Carl Costello.

Time- Ten pm until late.

Attendance- By invitation only.

Dress code- As you are.

Hi, guys, I thought I would tell you a story about Brendan and me.

Tonight is poker night and we are already well into the night. I confess, my brain is a little fuzzy and I am beginning to see double. Only thing is, at this point I haven't realised that I am tipsy. I wasn't exactly meant to drink, you see.

Anyway, here I am acting invisible leaning on the bar casually but with my eyes set on the brightly lit centrally placed round pub table that is acting as a poker table. It is surrounded by a seated motley crew of five men and one woman.

I hiccup. The players sit around the table, silently eyeing each other up while they glance at their cards. I know some of them; Carl Costello, Jack Osbourne, the woman, I think her name is Connie who was at the last poker session.

And, of course, Brendan.

I am a bit annoyed, right. I get that we can't act all lovey dovey, kissy kissy. We never do anyway. But he has barely looked at me all night unless it is for 'the code' and I swear he has been acting even more hostile towards me than usual.

Or maybe I am just being paranoid. Right. That is probably it. I'm being paranoid.

I'll tell you how it all happened; how I got here.

Yesterday, Brendan asked me to 'serve drinks' at tonight's game. I'll tell you what we were doing when he asked in a minute. Let's just say it made it very hard for me to say 'no'.

First, though, let me say that I knew what he meant by 'serve drinks'. He wanted me to help him cheat. And I knew that I could get away with it because I have before. People who don't know my criminal past look through me. I look harmless; a scrawny, quiet lad who appears too young to be serving booze.

I know I should have said no. I know that, yeah. I don't want to get into trouble. Crime is in my past and a part of me feels guilty.

But I must confess that another part of me feels chuffed to bits that we are getting away with this.

I stand up straight at the bar and get some work done. I walk around the table slowly looking out for empty glasses. It is important to keep the alcohol flowing.

_"Loosens the purse strings and makes players careless."_ Brendan mumbled into my ear yesterday.

I pick up a couple of empty glasses and, at the same time, I subtly try to catch a glimpse of the players' cards.

So far I've been really good. Brendan is winning with my help but losing just enough to not arouse suspicion.

My feet are getting a little unsteady but not enough for anyone to notice. It is enough, however, for me to need to concentrate on my steps more than I usually do. I should stop drinking behind the bar before I start fucking up.

Anyway, with confidence I walk around to where Bren is sitting and deliberately brush against his back. That has nothing to do with 'the code' or cheating. It's just that the booze in my bloodstream makes me horny and feeling Brendan's suit material against the bare skin of my arm brings back memories of the mind-blowing sex we had yesterday when Cheryl was out for the night with her mate, Lindsay.

I feel Brendan stiffen against my touch; as if he is rejecting it.

I'm not surprised. He acts as if I have leprosy when we are in public but alone he can't keep his hands off me. Last night he stripped out of his suit, a different one to tonight's, in record time.

And this brings me nicely to how I ended up saying 'yes' to poker night.

As I head back to the bar, I remember how he collapsed on top of me after fucking me hard into the mattress. We rode out the last of our aftershocks, all sweaty and out of breath. He didn't move for a while; not that I was complaining. I love it when we are like this; slowly coming off our climaxes and letting our bodies cool down while still connected.

But every time he allows us to stay together like this, and it is only a handful of times, I have to stop myself from saying something pathetic like how much he means to me. I always get the urge to let him know how he makes me feel; how amazing and alive. But I know that Brendan would find it too much and push himself off me to break the intimacy. He would tell me to piss off or even worse he might use his fists to set me straight the way he did in the beginning.

So last night I stayed quiet and rubbed my hands over his slick back enjoying his naked weight as it covered me; hoping my hands showed what my mouth couldn't say.

Does that sound stupid?

Eventually, though, the nearness had to end. He ran a hand down my sweaty, scrawny chest (I have started doing push ups and weights to build up a little muscle though and I think it is beginning to show). Then he pushed off me and pulled out. I stayed unmoving but grinning like a Cheshire cat, one hundred percent satisfied. I watched as he pulled the loaded condom off, tied it up and tossed it in the bin in the corner of the room.

I was shameless in my admiration of his naked body as he knelt, back on his heels, between my still spread-eagled legs.

"Wind your tongue in, Stephen." He said. "I know I am a thing of beauty."

I laughed, lifted my leg up and pushed against his chest with my foot so he toppled over. "Egomaniac!"

"Just saying it like it is, young man." He said with a glint in his eyes and then leaned down over me on his hands and knees.

As he stared deeply into my eyes I found my laugh fade into a small grin. It was looks like the one he was giving me that gave me hope that maybe there was something there; that Brendan _really_ cared. He glanced down my sweaty, cum covered chest and raised an eyebrow.

"You okay?" He asked softly.

Things had become intense, fast, hard and frantic but I not only handled it, it was better than it had ever been. I nodded with a smile.

"Never better."

"Good." He said. He leaned over to the side table and picked up a cloth. He ran it over our chests and down between my legs cleaning up.

When he was done, he tossed the cloth aside and reached down to bite my earlobe. He whispered,

"Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday last week?"

I was shocked that he knew. I barely celebrated it anyway. As you know, it isn't like I have many friends, what with not going to college, having to take care of the kids and working all hours of the day.

So on the big day this is what happened. Amy gave me a card. I took the kids to the park and treated them to McDonald's during the day. I bought myself a new pair of trainers because the old ones were falling apart. And then in the evening, Rae cooked me a lasagne and baked me a half burned chocolate cake.

And I don't like chocolate.

I shrugged as I looked up at Brendan's intense stare. "It isn't important." I said honestly. "My parents didn't even call."

I try not to think about them too much. They are in my past. I come from one of those 'broken homes' they talk about on telly. My stepdad beat mum and me up and mum failed to protect me because she drowned her sorrows in booze.

My eyes probably gave away more than I wanted them to. Brendan sighed and put his forehead against mine.

"It is not your fault you can't pick your parents. Some of them are plain shit."

It wasn't the most sentimental thing I had ever heard but it made me feel better.

He gently pressed his lips to mine. "Happy birthday, Stephen."

"Thank you." I whispered back and reached my hands up to wrap them lightly around his waist. I grinned at him. "I'm not a teenager anymore. I'm all grown up, me."

"Yeah. Yeah ye are. But you still need to have celebrations in your life. Otherwise what is the point?"

I didn't get what he meant. He can be so hard to get sometimes.

"We need to do something about that." And he licked my top lip. God, my bones go all weak when he does that. It is like he tastes me.

"You make me feel old." He whispered.

"You're not." I protested. He is well fit in my opinion.

"I'm thirty-one."

"So?" I asked.

One corner of his mouth turned up and then he kissed me again. "Stephen, I need your help tomorrow."

How was I ever going to say no to poker night after that?

-0-0-

So here I am in _The Dog_ trying not to look shady as I head towards the bar with the two empty glasses on definitely unsteady feet. Wait. When did they start feeling like jelly? The booze is really starting to get to me.

I haven't told you about how we pull off the con.

It is simple enough. I try to find out the highest hand on the table while taking drink orders. Then I reveal it to Brendan using a pre-agreed code system using the liquors hanging in the dispensing unit on the back wall of the bar. Brendan drilled the system into me at _Chez Chez_ months ago before our first poker night together.

We have this down to a fine art.

I will never forget my reward for learning the code. I heat up just thinking about it. Let's just say that if Cheryl had walked behind the bar at the club she would have been left in no doubt about Brendan's sexuality. She caught us while I was getting my 'reward' and saw me standing behind the beer taps looking flushed.

"You alright, Ste?" She asked with concern in front of the bar.

I blushed as I felt Brendan, who was hidden under the bar's bench, take his warm wet mouth off my rigid cock. Cheryl reached across and placed her hand on my forehead. "You've broken a sweat."

"I'm fine." I remember saying faintly.

Thank goodness she strolled off into the office allowing Brendan a chance to get up off his knees, dust off, wink at me, count to ten and catch up with his sister in the office.

Anyway, back to poker night. Hang on. God, I can't even keep my train of thought. I definitely drank too much.

I hope you are following my story.

I haven't even told you how I got so drunk, have I? It will become clear in a moment.

I shake my head briskly to clear my head. I should be concentrating on the job, not the unspeakable things Brendan can do with his mouth.

I look over at Brendan to subtly get his attention but he is already looking at me with a bored expression.

He sits at the round table in a seat that faces the bar as we planned. I take a tall glass and put it under the upside bottle of rum which is on the back wall lined up with other liquors. I press the dispenser at the bottle's neck twice. Then I fill it with diet coke.

A double rum and coke is code for three of a kind. Carl holds that hand but I think Brendan has a full house; a higher hand.

Brendan lightly taps his finger to his temple. That means he has understood my message. I take two healthy gulps out of the drink before throwing the rest down the sink as I have for every 'code' drink I have made tonight. Then I get busy pouring a beer for Jack and making a cosmopolitan for Connie.

"Jesus, Brendan!" Jack exclaims with a laugh as Brendan wins the round. "You are on fire today!"

Bren raises an eyebrow and gives a small lopsided smile. "What can say, Jacky-O? Luck of the Irish."

"Right." Carl says with a smile. "Remind me to make this the last time I play with you. You are bleeding me dry here."

"You are a long way from broke." Bren replies. "Weren't you on a six figure salary back in your footie days?"

He grins behind the glass of whiskey that he has been nursing all night. He has barely drunk any alcohol to keep a clear head.

I have, on the other hand. I guess, without realising, the units have added up from all the sips I have been taking from various mixed drinks, cocktails and shots.

Fine, I admit it. I am officially smashed.

And I am feeling a little reckless.

And horny as hell.

Isn't Brendan satisfied with what he has won already? It is over a grand and easily the highest amount he has won in one sitting during one of these low key 'casual' games.

Plus he knows that there is no one at my house tonight. Amy and the kids are with Mike for two days. I wish he would wrap this evening up so we can spend some time together.

I stare at him with hooded eyes from behind the bar. He has warned me not to do that but I can't help it. He is looking good and the alcohol is lowering my guard.

I concentrate on his mouth which is lined by that moustache that tickles when he presses his lips against mine. I stumble towards the table carrying the two drinks and put them next to Jack and Connie.

"Thank you." They mumble, barely acknowledging me.

"Stephen." Brendan says to me quietly. He touches his index finger to my arm to get my attention. "My glass is empty. Another whiskey. Now."

I look at him with narrow, angry eyes. I hate when he bosses me around like that in front of others. I stay where I am and fold my arms over my chest defiantly.

"In a minute." I say. God, am I slurring?

Shit.

"Now, Stephen." He orders firmly. The table of players looks between the two of us uneasily.

"Is everything okay?" Carl asks.

I shrug and pout and continue to stare at Brendan. This close up I can feel his heat and smell his aftershave and it turns me on even more. He scent is animalistic and manly like him. One hundred percent Brendan Brady. I wish we were alone so I could...

"Stephen!" Brendan says sharply, getting my attention. He is worried. I am acting strange. I am practically drooling over him in front of these people.

I snap out of it.

"Sorry." I mumble. "What can I get ya, Bren?" I ask in what I hope is a professional manner.

I stare at the crucifix that hangs from his open collar neck; the one I feel on my back when he takes me from behind. I make a strangled sound that I hope no one hears.

But they do and Bren looks at me oddly. When I sway on my feet I see his face change as he realises that I am drunk as shit.

I can see his brain working a mile a minute. He is trying to figure out how to solve the problem of a drunk Stephen Hay before I slip up and give our relationship or our cheating away.

"Another whiskey." He repeats slowly, studying my face. His voice is controlled when he adds. "Pretty please."

I can tell he is angry with me. All I had to do tonight was be invisible, serve drinks and help him cheat. Instead I am drunk, acting up and gagging for it.

I want to apologise but I know I can't in front of everyone here. Even drunk I know it would seem odd. So I stumble back to the bar and pour Brendan his drink without another word.

"Looks like your barman has been drinking on the sly, Brendan." Carl says while nodding in my direction.

"What can I say?" Bren says, giving me a deep penetrating look as I walk back to him with his drink. His voice is low and serious. "You can't get the staff now-a-days."

My hand is shaking as I place the whiskey on the table next to him.

I do not understand how what happens next happens. The glass gets knocked over and everything seems to go in slow motion. The whiskey spills all over Bren's crisp suit jacket, white shirt and onto his lap.

He pulls away from the table quickly.

"For fuck's sake!" He shouts at me.

My hands go up to my mouth in shock.

"Oh my God!" I say. "I am so sorry."

I don't get how that happened. I swear I placed the glass on the table but I am lashed so maybe I didn't. Maybe I accidently spilt it all over him. I use the towel that is flung over my shoulder to dab him dry.

"Stop, Stephen." He mutters menacingly but I am not listening. I am mortified.

"Stop!" He shouts. That stills my actions.

"Take it easy, Bren." Jack says. "Give the kid a break."

Brendan stands up and pockets his winnings in one move. "You know what, fuck you, Jack! This was Armani. Now it's fucked." He points at his drenched suit.

He stares at me for a long moment and I try not to cower. Then he quickly ducks his head towards me as if he is about to head butt me. I pull away from him and stumble backwards.

"You know what. I'm done here." Brendan says in his Irish lilt to the assembled group. He looks at me steadily. His face is right up against mine and I can feel his angry spit hitting me as he shouts, "And you! You redefine incompetent! You're a pitiful waste of space!"

The angry vein on his forehead pops up on his bright red face. He is scaring me. He glances at the table one last time and then storms out without a backwards glance.

I feel like crying. I know it is pathetic but I hate that I have upset him. I know that my reaction is partly alcohol-related. The shouting has sobered me up a little.

"You alright, Stephen?" Jack asks.

I nod as I pick up Brendan's empty glass.

"I think we should call it a night." Connie says kindly. "Why don't you go home and get some rest?"

I nod again.

"Everyone knows that Brendan can be a bit of an arse." Carl chips in.

It is stupid, I know, but I don't like people taking swipes at Brendan even when he is being mean to me. These people don't understand how close I came to not only potentially giving away the cheating but also my relationship to Brendan.

I grab my jacket and walk out of the pub with tired feet and a heavy heart. I want to text him or call but I know it is probably better to give him some time to calm down.

The streets of Hollyoaks are quiet. I pass the odd person here and there as I approach my council estate. The look like they are on their way home from a night out. From their laughs and banter I figure their night is going better than mine.

I round the corner into the cul de sac where my house is and I bow my head down looking for my keys. When I find them and look up I am shocked to see Brendan waiting in his stained suit, hands in pockets, outside my front door.

I stop worried about what he is doing here. Is he going to physically punish me for what happened at _The Dog_?

"Hi." He says.

"Hi." I keep a good three metres of distance, a head start, and try to make out his expression. It is hard in the dark.

"You're drunk." He says slowly.

I take a further step back, just in case. I bet you he is a very fast runner. "A bit. Yeah. I was bored looking at you guys play for three hours."

He stares at me but doesn't say anything. So I continue,

"And you didn't look at me or talk to me properly once. Not unless it was for a drink or to cheat."

I manage not to slur but I know I am whining.

Brendan walks up to me and stops only when we are practically chest to chest. He reminds me of those predatory wild cats on the Discovery Channel but for some reason I don't feel scared.

I can barely hear his low voice. "I thought that was the deal, Stephen. We couldn't come over bessie mates, now could we?"

I think about it. No, I guess that would have defeated the point.

"And you were doing plenty of staring and making puppy dog eyes for both of us." He whispers into my ear.

"I wasn't." I protest but I know I am lying.

I can feel his damp suit against me and feel bad.

"I am sorry for spilling your drink on you." I say looking up at him. "I'll give you whatever it costs to get it dry-cleaned."

I rest a palm flat onto a damp lapel over his heart.

His whisper carries breath that is vaguely scented with the booze he was drinking earlier. "I can think of a much more fun way for you to repay me."

My mouth goes dry. For a second I think he is going to kiss me, right here, outdoors where someone might see us but he pulls away with that control that I wish I had.

"Come on." He says softly. "Let me in."

I swallow in anticipation. "You aren't mad at me?"

He gives me a small smile. "What? That little bit of drama back then? I was done for the night. We made money. I was getting bored and you kept giving me those fuck me eyes from across the room. I needed a get out clause."

I frown, not understanding.

"I nudged you into spilling the drink." He says slowly as if speaking to an idiot. "I needed to fuck you and I needed you to stop being so fucking obvious."

The penny drops. "You messed up your suit and shouted at me to get us out of poker night?"

"Ding, ding, ding. The cute boy in black gets ten points." He mutters in a dry tone. "Now am I staying or going?"

I hesitate for less than a second before brushing past him, unlocking the door to the house and looking at him with a smile.

Brendan smiles back. "A wise choice, young Stephen. A wise choice indeed."

And you know what guys, I know that things will only get better now.

To be continued.


	2. Chapter 2

Event- Stephen's surprise birthday celebration.

Venue- Stephen's house in that shite estate that the world forgot.

Time- One am until- we'll see how it goes...

Attendance- Brendan Brady and Stephen Hay.

Dress code- Clothes optional.

-0-0-

Let's just get one thing clear. I'm not one for pointless words and sentimentality so don't get too excited about what you have just read.

Stephen's surprise birthday party.

I'm only doing it because I've got kids and he has kids. What I mean is, Stephen and I are, both of us, fathers. Parents. And I know how important it is to have parents in your life that make you feel like you are significant.

Like you are loved. I live and die by that. Family comes first. My kids come first.

So if his parents have made him feel insignificant, like scum, I want to show him that he isn't.

That he has worth.

It is like I told him yesterday,

_"It is not your fault you can't pick your parents. Some of them are plain shit."_

That is all this is so don't go getting ideas about Stephen and me and what we are about.

Fuck. Everyone makes opinions about other people's actions and tries reading into things that aren't there...

If you promise not to get all emotional like Stephen does (thinking about relationships and dating and stupid feelings between two men) then I'll tell you all about the rest of the night.

Because I figure you might be interested in what happened after I ended up with whiskey on my designer suit and piss-drunk Stephen let us into his house in the middle of the night.

The truth is this was always how poker night was going to end but the lad had no clue. I was always going to cut the night short for part two of our night. The whiskey was always going to end up on my suit.

My suit was an unfortunate casualty of my plan to get Stephen and me out of there.

What was not in the plan was for him to get drunk.

It means he may not be any use to me tonight. Inconsiderate fucker.

Yesterday, when I asked him to help me out with the game, he was lying on his back below me, naked as the day he was born looking all fucked out and sated.

He thought he knew the deal. In fact, when I told him about the card game, his reaction was,

"Why don't you just say it, Brendan? You want me to help you cheat again."

"Fine." I said quietly, leaning down to lightly bite at the flickering pulse in his neck. "You got me. Fancy being Sundance Kid to my Butch Cassidy?"

I gave him a smile.

"Who?"

I laughed and gave him a kiss. "Never mind."

He stayed serious and whispered, "I don't want to do it. It's not right."

And then he groaned. I wasn't being fair, really. I was sucking at the spot in his neck that makes him squirm. I know it gets him every time. He becomes putty. He'll do anything.

Anything. But now was not the time to test him between the sheets. Now was about winning him round.

My lips moved down his chest and lower still. Persuasion. I was not taking no for an answer. I felt his breath hitch as I got to the scanty hairs just above his cock.

"Brendan." He moaned and threw his head back.

I looked up at his open gasping mouth and the dark blown pupils of his eyes.

I had Stephen just where I wanted him. Desperate. I was holding out on him. I knew what he wanted. But he wasn't going to get it until he agreed to poker night.

"Yes?" I replied stopping my trail of kisses.

He combed his fingers through my hair and firmly pushed me down towards his groin. Cheeky bold fekker. I should tell him. I should.

"Okay. I'll do it." He whispered. "But it's the last time."

I hid my smile. "You won't regret it."

And then I showed him thank you.

-0-0-

But I am ahead of myself. I should tell you about a meeting I had in the afternoon before Stephen came round to my flat. It might make things a little clearer for you about what poker night was all about.

I was pacing in my office. The door was bolted shut to avoid unwelcome intrusion. My guest was sitting in my usual chair in the far corner of the room.

"I didn't think I would be hearing from you, Brendan." Veronica said uncrossing and then re-crossing her legs slowly in her short tight black dress under a faux fur white shawl. "Not after last time. I thought we had settled our issues."

"Issues." I barked a short laugh. "Is that what the kids call it now-a-days?"

Veronica is an old partner in crime. Remember her? She robbed the McQueen home a while back. That is the skill I need from her. Breaking and Entering. She is second to none.

"I am done dealing with you, Bren."

"Now is that the way to speak to a long lost friend." I said.

"What do you want?"

"For you to break into someone's house." I stopped my pacing and checked my reflection in the round mirror on the wall as I waited for her reply. This was important.

I could see her thinking about it in the mirror's reflection.

"What's it worth?" She asked.

"A hug and a kiss." I laughed at my own joke but when she didn't join in I continued, "Oh come on, that was good. Fine. We can agree on satisfactory monetary remuneration later."

I turned back round to face her.

"What am I stealing?" She asked. She was all business.

"Nothing." I said and for the first time since the beginning of our conversation I felt uncertain. What was I doing?

"Then why am I breaking into someone's place?" I could understand her confusion. "Who is it anyway?"

"Stephen Hay." I said quickly walking up to her.

"Stephen?" I could almost hear her brain routing around for where she had heard the name before. "Not the same Stephen you asked me to hit on at your club to make his girlfriend jealous, is it?"

"It might be. I don't see how that is any of your business." I hissed.

"Temper, Bren." Veronica said with a smile. "So sensitive."

"So are you going to do this for me or not?" I asked, ignoring her comment. "You would need to bring Big Charlie along."

"When?" She asked.

"Tomorrow evening. At about ten o'clock. You'll have at least two hours while he's out. He'll be at a poker night with me."

"Nice cover." She commented.

I smiled dryly. "I thought so."

"So what am I doing?" She asked suddenly curious.

I warned her, "This is not a typical job but I will hunt you down if you fuck it up."

"So hostile, Brendan." She said mockingly, then stood up and rounded the table to stand in front of me. "You know, we are so similar in many ways. Sometimes I wonder why we never got together properly."

V caressed a long painted nail down my cheek to my chin and gave me her most seductive smile. We have shared the odd snog here and there. Nothing more and not for a long time. I never found her attractive enough.

"For more reasons than one, sugar pie." I grinned coldly at her before brushing away her hand.

"Fine. Let's talk business." Veronica said brusquely before stepping away. "I don't know what your issue is with that poor boy you work with. Messing with his relationship and now his house. You sound like the boss from hell."

"You have no idea." I smiled as I unlocked one of the filing cabinets, pulled out some papers and handed them over to her.

I smoothed my moustache as she studied them and then looked at me in surprise.

"A word to the wise, Veronica. This remains our little secret."

-0-0-

So here I am standing outside Stephen's home in the dead of night with the drunk eejit standing millimetres in front of me. I look down at the hand that he has rests against my chest. I should push it off me. We are in public and the alcohol has clearly done a number on his better judgement. But his hand feels warm against my cold liquor-drenched shirt and suit jacket. To tell you the truth, I don't mind it there. There are worse feelings in the world.

In fact, those 'fuck me' eyes that he was doing at me in the pub have put me in the mood.

It is a good job that baby-faced blonde is off to see her grandmother while Amy is with the kids at her father's.

The girls are away and the boys can come out and play.

I look around us. There is no one in the street and no one that I can see peering from the windows of his neighbour's houses.

"Now am I staying or going?" I whisper at him.

He hesitates for less than a second before brushing past me, unlocking the door to the house and looking at me with a smile.

I smile back. Phase one aka 'poker night' is over. Phase two aka Stephen's surprise birthday celebration is underway.

"A wise choice, young Stephen. A wise choice indeed."

-0-0-

I enter the house after him and shut the door before leaning on it.

Stephen turns around and looks at me while fiddling with his keys.

I love the way he gets uncertain when we are alone and there is anticipation in the air.

"Are you going to turn some lights on, Stephen?" I ask casually. "I didn't eat enough carrots as a kid."

"Um, yeah. Sure." He walks right up to me so that I catch a whiff of his aftershave. He leans in, a hair's breadth away, and extends his arm out to flick on the light switch to my side. Then he doesn't move and looks expectantly at me.

I have noticed that he has been doing this more frequently recently; he tries to find ways to get near me whether we are alone or not. Just like that sneaky brush up against me at the pub earlier. It is his way round my rule that he doesn't get to say when or where or how we come together. It is his way of initiating intimacy without actually initiating it, if you know what I mean. And I let it slide because, it is clever and it works.

I lean down and gently press my lips to his then rest my head back against the door with a smile.

"God, you taste like a cocktail bar." I whisper. "What the hell did you drink?"

He grins lazily, "Um, a bit of this and that. Just sips though, but a lot of them. Mojito, Stella, Turkey passion, Vodka/Red Bull, B-52, another Stella, two apple sour shots, Tequila Sunrise, another Stella, rum and coke..."

I shut him up with a kiss and drag my arms round his waist to pull him closer. Why does he talk so much?

I only intend for the kiss to be brief but Stephen goes crazy, delving into my mouth with his tongue so that it meets with mine and they slip and slide against each other and I find myself groaning because I can't get enough of him.

When I let go, he looks dazed, but then so do I, I'm sure.

I cup his face between my hands and look into his eyes. Fuck. He carries every emotion through them. I wish he didn't. He looks so vulnerable with that open, honest gaze that doesn't waver as he looks at me with intensity.

"I love it when you kiss me." He says quietly as he grips onto the front of my shirt.

I should get mad at his words but I can't seem to tonight. Maybe it is because this is supposed to be about celebration. But as I have already told you, this will not descend into sentimentality.

We aren't girls.

"I love it when ye use yer mouth for something other than talking." I whisper as I lightly touch his wet lips with a finger.

"Brendan!" He whines suddenly and flops against me so that I have to catch his weight. "I am so drunk!"

Yeah. I forgot about that. This isn't good. I hadn't factored in inebriation into tonight's plans.

"Do you want some water?" I ask, rolling my eyes at the ceiling.

He nods against my chest. His voice is muffled by his face against my body. "You're wet. With booze. Yuck."

"That's the whiskey you spilt."

He leans back enough to look at me with one lazy eye. The other is shut. "You spilt it."

"Whatever."

"You spilt it because you wanted to be alone with me." He slurs. Then he pushes off me to stand on his own two unsteady feet and starts taking my jacket off. "Help me unbutton your shirt, Bren."

"Um, 'scuse me?" Did he just give me an order?

"Your shirt. Now. You'll catch a cold." His impatience means that he has me unbuttoned in a flash and he tugs at my shoulders trying to peel my suit jacket and shirt off in one go.

I am so shocked that I allow him to strip me so that I am topless.

"That's better." He mutters and places a kiss over my left nipple.

I hide a smile.

"I'll get you a tee-shirt." He whips round, stumbles over a squeaky kid's toy, grins at me as if it never happened and picks it up.

"Lucas." He says as if that explains everything and then continues towards his room dropping it into the toy basket on his way.

No this is not how I planned things. I catch up to him at his bedroom's door. "Um, Stephen, wait. It's okay. You can get it later."

He looks at me oddly when I put my hand over his on the door handle, preventing him from opening it.

"It'll just take a second." And he forces his way in after I half-heartedly resist him.

What he sees inside stops him in his tracks. His jaw drops and his eyes widen. I can't take my eyes off him. This is the reaction I had hoped for.

"Wha-, Um?" I follow him into the middle of his bedroom. He then turns round to me with total surprise. A slow smile appears on his face as he catches my smug expression.

"Did you-" He looks at his room again as his smile threatens to split his smile in two. "How-"

I grin at him. "Care to finish a sentence?"

I am shocked when a second later my arms are full of Stephen. The impact is so great that he makes me lose my footing and I fall backwards onto the bed taking him with me.

"Jesus, Stephen!" I say in shock but there is a laugh in my tone.

He crawls on top of me, pinning me to the bed and litters my face with dozens of kisses. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" He whispers repeatedly.

"You like?"

He nods, "Yes! How did you do it?"

"Where there is a will, there is a way." I say.

He jumps off me and I try not to feel disappointed. I figured that while we were on his new bed we may as well baptise it... thoroughly. But maybe that is just me. Religious to a fault.

"Where are you going?" I ask without moving from my position.

He stumbles up to the new plasma TV that hangs on the wall opposite the bed. And prods it lightly. "How many inches is this?" He asks in awe.

"Many, many inches." I say lazily as I lightly caress the hairs on my chest while staring at him.

"Wow."

"Didn't realise size was so important to you." I say, working the double entendre.

He turns around to me. From surprise to horniness in one beat. "Oh yeah. It is. And I have no complaints. None at all."

He subconsciously licks his lips as he looks at my groin.

"Glad to hear it. After all, it is 50 inches wide." I laugh at my own joke. See what I did there. I deliberately misunderstood him. Funny.

"Oh my God!" He says suddenly.

"No one has ever called it that before." I quip.

"No." He shakes his head as he points at the wall to the side of the bed. "I meant that."

A funky new shoe rack is leaning on it and five brand new pairs of trainers and shoes sit on its shelves along with two of his just about workable items of footwear.

"Shit, Bren." He says in disbelief as he walks over, picks a shoe up then puts it down again. "This is too much."

"You were almost better off coming to work barefoot with some of the shoes you were wearing. The customers thought we were employing homeless people. It was putting them off. Consider this good for business." I say as I sit up and face him.

I take his hand in mine. Don't ask me why, okay. I just do.

I stand up and say, "There is something else."

I give his hand a squeeze when his jaw drops further and I drag him to the living room.

Before we go in I get behind him and cover his eyes with my hands.

"What the hell, Brendan!" He complains.

"No peeking."

I admit that this is all making me feel good. Tomorrow, he will discover the two new pairs of jeans and hot designer tops in his wardrobe and the toys I got for Leah and Lucas that are near the toy basket.

But today is about him experiencing a birthday in a way he never did as a kid. It is not about the presents alone. I get money constraints. It is about so much more.

I take my hands away.

He blinks once. It takes him a moment to clock the cake sitting in the centre of the coffee table.

It has twenty candles on it. Unlit.

Shit.

Of course. I didn't think that through.

He walks up to it with a big grin on his face none-the-less. "Is that lemon drizzle?"

I nod while picking up the box of matches that Veronica and Big Charlie left next to it and quickly light up the candles.

"It's my favourite." He says as he inspects it. "How did you know?"

"Lucky guess." I say as I recall bumping into Amy outside the Drive 'n' Buy a week ago.

She was holding a card in her hand.

-0-0-

"Who's birthday is it?" I asked offhandedly after saying 'hi'.

"Stephen's." She said. "Didn't he tell you?"

I shook my head. "Today?"

"Yes." She nodded. "He has never really made a big deal about it."

"What d'ya mean?" I asked.

"I don't think there was time for birthdays when he was growing up. He was too busy being beaten up."

She looked sharply at me realizing her words. We both ignore the depth of significance of her words. I look down. I continued a pattern that began in Stephen's childhood.

But I have changed, at least where he is concerned. Now I would kill anyone who dared threaten his safety...

I have done so once and would do it again.

"No birthday cake?" I said and for some reason I felt angry. Angry that a decent guy like Stephen hadn't enjoyed a moment where he was treated like he was special.

"No." Amy looked at me oddly. "Look Brendan, I know you and Ste had a thing but I don't get why you are so curious about this."

_Had_ a thing. I guess Stephen and I were better at keeping this incognito than we thought.

"I'm not."I said.

She stared at me with her knowing large blue eyes.

"Look, I'm late. I've got to go." She walked away but then threw a comment over her shoulder as she headed for the council estate,

"I'm sure you don't care but he loves lemon drizzle cake."

-0-0-

"Make a wish, Stephen," I say as I hold the lit cake up to him. No, I didn't make it. Do I look like Delia Smith to you? But I had it made by the best you can buy.

He stares at me through the amber glow of fire, blows hard and then closes his eyes.

"Happy birthday." I whisper. I know it sounds daft but I realise how intimate this is as I look at Stephen's calm, serene face in the dim room. It is just him and me and a cake.

And it feels okay.

When he opens his eyes again I see wetness there; like he is about to cry.

"I can't accept this." He says quietly.

"The cake?" I put it back down.

He shakes his head. "Everything. The TV, the shoes and shoe rack, the bed." He looks around and spots the items near the toy basket that he overlooked earlier. "Is that a toy car and a My Little Pony collection?"

I nod sheepishly.

"I'm not keeping any of this, Bren."

"Why not?" I say. "I want to give it to you."

Why isn't he happy? I want him to feel that there is someone looking out for him; someone that has his back, especially since his parents didn't step up to the plate.

He shakes his head. "This isn't normal. People give each other cards and cinema vouchers as birthday gifts. Not all this. How much did it cost?"

"Mate's rates. It's not about money." I say.

He doesn't answer but instead stomps into his bedroom again so I follow. He touches the headboard of the bed frame which is made of a solid dark wood with simple clean masculine lines. The sheets and pillows that he then touches are softer than anything he has ever slept on, I am sure.

I thought that is where we would be right about now.

How wrong I was.

"And what the hell am I going to tell Amy and Rae?" He puts his hands against his mouth in panic.

"Tell them you made a killing at poker night." I smile.

"This isn't funny."

I stand and place my hands on his hips. "Yeah. Yeah it is. I don't get what the problem is."

I kiss him because I can't stop myself. I feel like it.

"Why did you do this?" He asks when he pulls away from me.

"Do what?" I ask but I know what he means.

"Buy all this for me." He says quietly.

Bastard. He is not getting me to say anything mushy and girly. I know that is what he wants to hear.

"Okay, you want to know the truth?" I ask. He nods and gives me a look that tells me what he hopes I am going to say. What he wants to hear. What he has wanted to hear for several months now.

"Yes." He says.

I open my mouth to speak but nothing comes out. In fact as I look at him my throat feels like it is closing up, like I can't breathe properly. I feel a surge of emotions that I battle against and try to tame into submission. But every time I am with Stephen I know they get stronger and stronger.

It will not do.

_Stop staring at me with those eyes_, I plead silently with him but I don't tell him out loud. It would be an admission of how much he can affect me.

I croak a nonsensical sound.

He stares at me and blinks. Once. Twice. Then he puts his hands on my bare waist (he has yet to get me a tee-shirt) and says really quietly, so that I can barely hear him,

"I love you, too."

And the world stops turning.

I feel something in the centre of my chest thud. It makes me feel ten feet tall.

But then my better judgement set s in automatically. I need to be anywhere but here.

Stephen has just confessed something that breaks the rules of our relationship in a major way. But he has also made the assumption that what I have done for him is an expression of my love for him.

What gave him that idea in my harsh words, brutal fists, and offhand use of his body over the last few months?

The little shit. I've kept it casual.

_What about your murmurs of concern, tender touches, light kisses and blatant preferential treatment of him? _My deeply hidden conscious reminds me.

I can't love him.

But Stephen doesn't detect my inner torment. He leans up for a kiss but I stop him.

No. This is not good. I cannot let us go there. Sentimental shit.

I am not ready for this. I mean, it is not what I feel...

Then I laugh and it sounds more like an out of control cackle. And I say words designed to hurt.

"God, Stephen, you sound like a lovesick girl! Don't be a pussy. Don't make this into something it isn't. We are having a laugh, yeah. This..."

I point at the cake, "... is a token of my appreciation for you being a sound bloke. Nothing more, ye here."

I laugh loudly again but it doesn't sound real to my ears.

I say this to toughen him up to the real world where what the two of us do in the bedroom is seen as dirty, disgusting, abnormal and wrong. That is the world I am trying to get Stephen to face up to.

In the real world, Stephen can get hurt by those bastards who do not understand. He can be taken away from me by people who think he is not worthy of life because he '_loves'_ another man.

I am protecting him.

There are rules. We can be together in private but apart in public. We can never use words like love. It is not an emotion that should factor into intimacy between men. It should never be used at me. I'll tell you why. Because one day Stephen is going to wake up and realise that he can do better than me and he will leave me. And not saying the words will mean it won't hurt as much.

I am protecting me.

Pain is etched on his face as my insensitive words sink in.

The next thing I know he picks up the birthday cake and throws it, extinguished candles and all, at me.

Some icing and flakes of citrusy sponge cling to my naked chest but the rest ends up in a messy heap on the floor.

"You are a coward, Brendan!" He is seething. "I may not have the quick comebacks or swagger or as many years on this Earth as you have but I am a thousand times the man you are, Brendan!"

Tears stream down his angry upset face.

I instinctively reach out to calm him down, "Stephen."

But he pulls away from me. "Because at least I can admit to who I am and what I feel. I am gay, Brendan. GAY. And I am in love with you!"

I panic. Why is he saying this?

Because I can't do 'out and proud'. I am no sissy. I just want things to be how they are with me and Stephen together without the eyes of the world upon us.

I break a cold sweat. I feel like I am being cornered.

"That's not me." I try to explain with a dry mouth. I wish he would see where I was coming from. "Why can't we stay like this?"

I pull him into a kiss but he bites my lower lip hard enough for me to pull off him.

"No!" He shouts. "I have had enough of this shit, Brendan. All of it. The stolen kisses. Quick illicit gropes. The hush money. The hidden fucks. I am not going to keep being your secret."

I feel like I have no control over this situation and I don't like it.

"I am not coming out." I say with authority.

He nods defeated. "I know you won't. You don't have to."

I sigh in relief.

He shakes his head. "Brendan. It's over."

His words ring through the room.

I stumble back from the effect they have on me. I cannot believe it. I'll be honest.

I am devastated.


	3. Chapter 3

I don't want to wake up. Ever.

Do you blame me?

If I stay asleep I don't have to face reality. I can dream. I can forget about what happened yesterday or rather, the early hours of today.

But unfortunately sleep can't last forever and as I come round I feel the amazingly soft but unfamiliar new sheets on the expensive bed Brendan got me. It reminds me of his big surprise.

My mind is still half asleep but goes straight to the three things I regret doing on 'poker night'.

First off, getting so drunk that I lowered my defences.

Secondly, that I finally told Brendan that I loved him. That I am in love with him.

I groan to myself and close my eyelids even tighter. What was I thinking? How did I expect him to react, exactly?

_'Oh Stephen, I love you, too. Marry me!'_

As if.

Brendan is never going to be to me what I need him to be; a proper boyfriend that is cool about us being a couple. I finally got that through my thick skull. Which leads me to my third regret.

I dumped him. Can I even use the word dumped when we weren't properly together?

I know that I shouldn't regret it, right. I made the right decision even though I was riding on drunk emotions. I need an open, honest relationship. I need him to tell me how he feels, not to close me off. I feel like all we are sometimes is sex, sadism and secrets.

But then I think of the times when I am alone with him and everything is _perfect._ He lets me know, without words that he needs me and wants me more than anything else. During those times I feel like the luckiest man in the world.

I slowly open my eyes and the bright rays of the midmorning sun blister through to the centre of my head. It feels like a never-ending herd of elephants has decided to stomp around my brain. I stretch my arms out and one of them touches something. I turn my head slowly on the pillow and see a thick plain brown envelope that sits on the empty pillow to my right. Brendan must have left it there when we came into the room earlier? I don't need to open it to know what is in it.

It shows me how emotionally stunted he is.

I roll in bed to avoid the light and the 'gift' and get an instant wave of nausea. I stand up quickly and run to the bathroom, making it there just in time to vomit violently into the toilet bowl. I didn't have anything to eat yesterday evening so only acidy fluid burns a path up from my stomach and out of me.

I finally stand up feeling weak and rub my mouth with the back of my hand as I stare into the bathroom mirror. I look a mess. My eyes are red and I have dark circles under them. My lips are chapped and dry.

This is the first day of me moving on from Brendan.

I don't expect you to believe me. I know that I have said this before.

But I mean it this time. Before I tried to leave him for the sake of others; Rae, Amy, Macca, Brendan. This time it's for me.

I strip out of yesterday's clothes; my _Chez_ _Chez's_ uniform.

God. I am going to have to quit the job. I can't face him every day without cracking and going back to him.

I turn on the shower, test the temperature and step under the hot soothing jet of water.

I close my eyes and my tears mix in with the stream falling on me. I am heartbroken as I remember how we left things at the end of the night.

-0-0-

"I am not coming out." He said. I could hear the fear in his voice as his chest was covered in sticky lemon drizzle. A part of me found it interesting that he didn't deny that he was gay the way he normally does. But it was not enough for me.

I nodded. "I know you won't. You don't have to."

He looked so relieved when I said that. He had no idea that I had already decided our fate then.

I looked him straight in the eye and felt more sober than I had felt all night.

"Brendan. It's over."

He actually looked surprised like it had never crossed his mind that I would be the one to end things between us. That is how confident he was that he called the shots in every aspect of our 'relationship'. He was the master. I was his emotional slave.

Well not this time.

You must think I am so ungrateful after he bought me all those things but that is exactly why I did it then. Here me out, right.

Brendan cannot figure out his emotions or express them with words so he throws material goods at me. I am not dumb. This is not the first time. It is simply his biggest gesture. Even before our first kiss in the cellar, Brendan would give me over generous loyalty bonuses and 'loans' that I never needed to pay back. He paid for Amy's education. And yet he wouldn't shave ten minutes off Jackie's shift.

Gift-giving is his way of saying someone means something to him. And I don't think even he realises it. It is fucked up.

Brendan looked down at the cake that was split and broken between us on the floor and on his chest then back at me.

"The fuck, Stephen!" He shouted wiping at the sticky mess on his chest hairs.

I pushed him hard towards the front door. "Get out!" I shouted back.

He nearly fell back with the force of my shove. When he found his feet again he tried to pull me into his arms. "It's just the drink talking."

I shrugged myself out of his hold and picked up his shirt and jacket that were still on the floor where we left them. I pushed them into his arms and opened the door.

I couldn't make eye contact with him, not if I was going to follow through with asking him to leave. Every inch of my body wanted him to stay. So I looked down at my feet while holding the door open.

I could feel him staring at me in the door frame. He ducked in close to me and inhaled but didn't say anything. He just stood there looking and then, after a sigh, he was gone.

-0-0-

After the shower I get changed into jeans a top and trainers. Not the ones he gave me, right. I am returning those.

I make a mental to-do list for today:

1) Quit my job at _Chez Chez_.

2) Avoid Brendan.

3) Find a new job.

4) Avoid Brendan.

5) Be honest with Rae and split up with her.

6) Avoid Brendan.

This hangover isn't letting me go. I feel rough as I walk into the club just before midday. It is still closed to business but Cheryl should be here. I look around carefully when I get to the top of the stairs. I can't see Brendan anywhere, thank God.

"Oh, hiya Ste." Cheryl says as she sits at the bar on one of the high stools balancing the books without looking up. "What are you doing here now? Aren't you working the late shift today?"

I look around again to make double sure he isn't around. "Yeah, um, is Brendan here?"

"No, he is having a lie in after last night. Why?" She looks at me and her jaw drops. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph. What happened to you, love? You're a right mess."

I smooth my hair down. I thought the shower would make me look fresh. Clearly not.

"I, uh, had a bit of a heavy night, you know, um, with my mates."

Cheryl smiles sympathetically. "I can see that. The booze clearly won. Where did you go?"

I think on my feet. "_The Rock_."

It is a new bar in Chester and the first one that comes to mind. I try a smile but it is too much effort.

Her eyebrows furrow. "Did you see Brendan there?"

My mouth goes dry. "No. Why?"

"He was there too. He didn't mention seeing you either. Strange. It only has one room. Anyway, he had a fight with some bloke there. It really got to him. He was punching walls and effing and jeffing in the dead of night when he got back to the flat. Woke me up."

"Right." I say slowly feeling myself redden. I know that I was the cause of his physical and verbal outburst. I am surprised that it had such an effect on him. I thought he might be relieved. No more Stephen. "Did he tell you what happened?"

"Some idiot was being aggressive to his girlfriend so Bren stepped in to break it up before the bugger punched her or something. Anyway, you wouldn't believe what happened next."

She leans in closer to me with an incredulous face. "The stupid bitch shouted at Brendan telling him to back off her boyfriend and threw her drink all over his suit. Can you believe it?"

I shake my head not knowing how else to react.

Cheryl continues her story. "You know what, Ste, I can never understand people who insist on staying in abusive relationships."

I swallow and quickly agree. "No. Me neither."

"Anyway." She puts her pen down. "I told my brother that he has to stop trying to help others. No one is grateful now-a-days."

I nod, thinking about all the gifts that he gave me. I feel like such a jerk right now.

"Anyway, what can I do you for?"

I pull at the edges of my hoodie's sleeves nervously. "Okay. Um. I am quitting the job from today."

Cheryl pulls a face. "You what, love?"

"I'm not coming back to work at _Chez Chez_." I say. "I'm sorry about the short notice."

"Ste, babes, what is all this about? I thought you loved the job."

"I do."

"So then what?" She looks at me with concern. "Is it the kids? We can make the hours more flexible."

"It won't make a difference." I insist.

Right then, the door to the club opens and closes.

"Morning, sis!" I hear from the floor below.

Brendan takes the stairs two at a time and is on our landing in no time. I have never wanted to be somewhere else so desperately in my life.

His initial expression is a mixture of shock, anger and regret although that last emotion maybe wishful thinking on my part. But then he puts on that emotionless mask. He did not expect to find me here. The only sign of any emotion now is an uncontrollable muscle twitch in his right cheek as he looks at me.

"Morning Stephen." He says softly.

"Morning." I mumble, looking down.

"Bren, Ste had a bit of an interesting Friday night, too." His sister says not picking up on the tense atmosphere.

"Did he now?" He says. He looks tired as if he barely slept. Surely I'm not the cause of that. "Must have been a full moon."

I need to get out of here before I beg him to take me back.

"He was at _The Rock_, too. How did you miss each other?" Cheryl says to us both as if we are daft.

I look at Brendan for a lie to use.

"I saw Stephen." Bren says in his lazy tone. "But he looked busy like he didn't want to know."

I cringe at his words.

Cheryl smiles knowingly at me. "Were you chatting some girl up, you naughty boy?"

I scrunch up my face. "No! I have Rae, haven't I?"

I hear Brendan's short, sharp laugh. "The girl of your dreams, ey, young Stephen." He says in a sarcastic tone. He is right next to me so that he speaks into my ear, warming it with his breath. "The woman who makes your heart go all a flutter when she is near."

I swallow, try not to shudder with need and take a step away from him. I will not break my resolve.

Cheryl slaps his arm. "Don't make fun of their relationship, Bren. I think Rae is sweet. She could be the mother of Ste's future kids."

I wish Bren's sister would stop talking. She is making things worse.

"By all means, keep procreating." Brendan says drily at me. He gives his sister a kiss on the cheek. "I'll be in the office."

"Okay bye."

He walks away without a further word or look at me.

"He woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. Don't take it personally, babe. I wonder what's bothering him." Cheryl says.

"I have no idea." I say as my heart breaks. Pathetic, I know.

"Oh, Ste. Please don't leave me. You are the best barman I have." Cheryl moans and pouts at me.

"Sorry." I say.

I can't deal with being near Brendan, feeling conflicting emotions all the time. I put the brown envelope that he left on my bed on the bar and slide it over to Cheryl. "Could you give this to him? He left it at _The Dog_ a couple of days ago. Mercy found it and gave it me." I lie.

Cheryl bristles as she unknowingly picks up the entire winnings from last night's poker game. I counted it after my shower.

One thousand and fifty pounds. Doesn't Brendan understand that he can't substitute emotions with money?

I feel like crying. Maybe I have made a mistake. I want to run into the office and fling my arms around him and say sorry and make up and tell him that I'll take him as he is.

"Don't mention that dirty old slapper's name to me." Cheryl says referring to Mercedes.

I blink back tears. Thank goodness Cheryl is here otherwise right now I would be clinging to Brendan and I would be reaching up for a kiss behind the locked door of the club's office.

"I have to go," I say and practically run out of the club.

-0-0-

Finding a new job is going to be a nightmare. I consider my options. There is _The Dog_, _Drive 'n' Buy_, _SUBAR_, _Cincerity_, _Look Sharpe_, _MOBS_, _Relish_, the high school and the community college if I want to stay in Hollyoaks. Because of the kids I can't work too far.

I sit on a bench in the park and stare unblinkingly ahead of me. My life is a mess. I have no job, no Brendan and soon no Rae when I finally tell her the truth when she gets back from her weekend with her Nan. But don't they say that when you hit rock bottom, the only way is up.

My stomach groans so I go to _Relish_ to get a burger and coke. Lunchtime business is just picking up. I bump into someone as we cross paths near the diner's double doors.

"Sorry." I say automatically and continue to walk.

"It's okay." He replies. "You can bump into me any day."

I whip my head round and frown. I don't think I was meant to hear that whispered last part. That sounded like a chat up line. From a bloke.

"Excuse me?" I say to his back. He stops in his tracks with his hand on the door handle. His shoulders slump and he turns around slowly to face me.

He looks sheepish. "There isn't any chance that you missed what I just said, is there?"

I shake my head then I assess him quickly. Cute. Tall. Black. Cheeky glint in his eye. Nice smile. Hard, toned body. Clean cut look. He is dressed in gym kit.

"Sorry." He says but he is smiling with no apology as his eyes run up and down me slowly. It is as if he will be quizzed on the details of my body later. I blush at his stare. "But I tell it like it is."

I don't know how to react. He is definitely coming on to me.

He reaches out a hand. "Noah."

I stare at it for a second then look up at his face.

"I-I-I'm not. Um. I'm not, y-y-y-you know, interested." I stutter, passing him to get out of the diner. Is 'gay boy' written all over my face?

"You are going in the wrong direction." His grins.

I awkwardly brush past him again to enter the burger joint again. "Oh yeah." I mutter.

"And that is very presumptive of you..." He adds. "... thinking I am coming on to you."

He wasn't? Now I feel embarrassed. "Oh."

"What's your name?" He asks not breaking his smile.

I hesitate but he seems okay. Sound. Easy going.

"Stephen." I say. "Ste for short."

"Ste." He repeats taking my hand and pumping it firmly twice. "Nice one."

"I should go." I let go of his hand feeling a little uncomfortable.

"Cool. I'll see you around." He says. "Especially if you come into _Look Sharpe_ and need a personal trainer."

Now his outfit and physique make sense.

"Yeah, sure." I say politely. "By the way, sorry for assuming ..." Now how do I put this without getting myself beaten up? I lean closer to him and whisper, "...you know, that you were, you know."

"I don't know." He looks amused at me fumbling to find the words.

I drop my voice even lower. "The way you were looking at me just then. I thought-"

He raises an encouraging eyebrow.

"Never mind." I say embarrassed and walk away from him towards the till. Clearly I have no social skills.

I lean over the counter waiting my turn to get served.

"You know, walking away in the middle of a conversation isn't normally the best way to make friends."

I look to my right and Noah is standing next to me leaning back on the counter casually. He still has that easy contagious smile on his face.

I can't help but smile back. "It isn't?"

"No."

"I thought I was acting like such a moron that you would want rid any way." I say.

"Nah. Just so you know, my classic 'get out' move is to say 'excuse me' to the person I am bored with, then answer my phone when it isn't ringing and walk away while talking into it." He winks at me.

"Are you serious?" I grin at him.

"Yep." He starts to laugh. "Works every time. But I like yours better. Just walk away mid conversation!"

"I didn't mean to." I say. "I mean, I wasn't bored by you."

He smiles and looks at his watch. "Look I have got to get back to work. My break's over. It was nice meeting you, Ste."

I nod. "It was nice meeting you too, Noah."

He squints his eyes at me before leaving and says, "Um, say no if you want but do you want to get a drink sometime?"

I hesitate. I need more friends don't I, and Noah seems like a good bloke.

"Sounds good."

"And by the way, you read me right before. I _was_ eyeing you up. I like you." He edges closer to me and grins. "Is that okay?"

His eyes are trained on my lips. He is so unashamed and free of self-loathing. It is refreshing and weird to me.

I swallow. "Yes."

He turns one corner of his mouth up. "Cool."

Noah writes his number on a napkin and slides it over just as Brendan storms into the diner swinging through the double doors as if he is walking into a saloon in a western movie.

He approaches me with purpose and it makes me quake in my shoes.

Shit. He is holding the brown envelope I gave to Cheryl in his hand. Noah doesn't seem to notice him. He puts the napkin in my hand and leans in to place a kiss on my cheek. "Call me, yeah?"

But he has lost my attention. My eyes stare straight into Brendan's as he is witness to Noah's actions.

I feel like I have been caught in the act of doing something I should not be.

Brendan walks right up to us and puts his face into Noah's creating a barrier between me and my new acquaintance. "Who the fuck are ye?" He sneers menacingly.

Noah is taken aback for a split second and then pushes into Brendan's personal space. "Who the fuck is asking?"

"Look, mate, back off young Stephen, yeah?" Bren says 'mate' as if he just used the c word that rhymes with _hunt_. "Fuck off. Run along."

"Brendan!" I say loudly, angrily. Who is he to treat Noah like that?

"Who do you think you are?" Noah says to him. "You're acting like some jealous boyfriend."

I panic as I look around us. We have got the clientele's attention. I see Brendan set his jaw and grind his teeth and I know Noah is a second away from an ass kicking.

"Ha! You're funny!" I force a laugh, get round Brendan to lightly place my hand on Noah's shoulder. "Brendan is... was my boss at _Chez Chez_. I just quit. And look at him. Gay? As if! Get some glasses. He is dating Mitzeee."

I look between the two angry men hoping to calm the situation.

"The glamour model?" Noah asks.

"Jealous?" Brendan asks.

Noah shrugs. "Mate, don't get me wrong, I appreciate the female form. But I prefer deeper voices and more facial hair than Mitzeee has to offer. No offense, yeah."

"None taken." Brendan says through gritted teeth.

Noah looks at him square in the eye and takes his phone out of his pocket.

"Excuse me," He says then places it to his ear and says, "Oh hiya, mate! What's happening?"

He gives me a wink and a smile and I get it. He is giving Bren the brush off.

I hide a smile as Brendan looks at Noah as if he is mad.

The fitness trainer mouths, "Call me," to me before leaving the bar.

"The phone didn't even ring!" Brendan says incredulously. I bite my tongue to stop myself from laughing.

"Who the fuck was that?" Brendan asks me pointing towards the doors.

"Noah." I say.

"Noah, who?"

"I don't know. I will find out when we next meet." I say defiantly.

Brendan gets up in my face and bares his teeth at me but he realises his surroundings. The place is buzzing but at least the customers are no longer interested in us. He grabs my wrist and drags me to the male toilets.

Once inside he starts pacing.

"This," He shows me the envelope, "was a gift."

"That I am returning along with everything else."

"I told you yesterday. I want you to have them." He says.

I stand up to him. "And I told you yesterday that we were through so get out of my face."

I march to the door but he pushes me back into the room. "Wait, wait!"

He grips his hands around my waist and I can't bring myself to move them. "What?"

"Didn't you like what I got you?"

"That is not the point, Bren."

He ducks his head so that our foreheads meet and he breathes deeply. "Yes it is."

"It is not about things. It is about what I mean to you and the answer is not enough."

He brings a hand up to stroke my cheek. Then he whispers while our heads stay connected. "I got you the telly because after you are all fucked out you like to lie against me and channel surf and say how shit late night programmes are. I bought the clothes because if you insisted on going to one of those bars you have tried to drag me to, you would have something decent to wear. I got you the trainers because I remember you complaining that your feet and socks got all soggy one day when you came into work and it was raining out. I got the toys because every kid has the right to playtime. And I got you the bed because I wanted you to always remember..."

He pauses.

"Always remember what?" I say but I cannot breathe. He really thought about it. Every single present has significance.

"That even when you are with Rae..." He closes his eyes, sighs and shakes his head. "Fuck!" He says softly.

Is he jealous of Rae?

"Are you seriously going to see this guy again, Stephen? He's a knob."

I can't resist him when he is near like this. He caresses my back before reaching down to cup a buttock and pull me into him.

"No he isn't. And yeah, I might. " I whisper when he brings his lips down to play with the angle of my jaw. "He didn't need to drag me into the toilets to speak with me. It didn't kill him to ask me out and say that he liked me. He kissed me in public."

Brendan growls. "That was not a kiss." And he licks my top lip before diving in to capture my mouth with his and for a second I give in because he is like a drug; difficult to quit.

But then I get self-control from somewhere and I pull away from him.

"No Bren. Not this time. Not until you are proud of who you are and what we are together."

He pulls away and his shoulders slump in defeat.

I sniff stiffly at him. "Just like I thought. You can keep your money and pick up all the other presents. Use them on the next guy that comes along and is happy to stick to your rules."

God, people. I know I sound dead confident with my words but inside I am weak. It takes everything for me to walk away from him and close the toilet doors behind me.


	4. Chapter 4

What the hell kind of name is Noah?

And who is he anyway with his stupid grin and pumped body? I have never seen the guy before, but he was acting a little too familiar with Stephen in _Relish_.

I don't think Stephen understands how dangerous people can be; strangers. The lad is too trusting. And after being with me and thinking he was in love with me, which of course he can't be, I don't trust his choices in life.

This Noah bloke could be anyone and I have an idea of what he is all about. A fucking queer trying to get his leg over. I read him from a mile away as he leaned in for that unnecessary kiss on Stephen's cheek in the middle of the diner. The guy wants to fuck the shit out of him and then bin him the minute he is done.

Noah has got to go.

This isn't jealousy. I know that is what you think it is but it isn't.

If Stephen isn't happy with our set up, which he made plenty clear last night, then he is free to go. I am not a prison officer. I am not in the business of keeping people near me against their will.

We should have stopped what we were doing ages ago, any way, but I was too weak. A longing look across the room or a memory of him moaning under me while I pummelled into him slowly was all I would need to break my resolve to leave him.

But I know I am bad news and that I should stay away from him. I am an adulterer, a thief, a drug dealer, an abuser, a blackmailer, a con artist, an attacker, a murderer. I am the guy you should run away from in a dark alleyway.

If I keep fucking around with Stephen I put him in potential danger.

But that does not mean he should fall into the hands of another man who is after only one thing.

I head back through the precinct to the club. The meeting with Stephen just now at_ Relish _did not go the way I had hoped.

No. I did not go looking for him to beg him to come back. He is adult. He has made his choice.

I was looking for him because when he gave me back the poker night winnings through Chez, he insulted me. It was my _gift_ to him. I wanted him to have it because he needed it more than I did. Because I knew times were tough for him on his wages and with three dependents. Because he is a diamond bloke who tries his hardest to make ends meet every day.

But he threw the money and gifts back in my face. All of them. Like they meant nothing to him. Like I meant nothing.

I wanted an explanation.

And I wanted him to know that even though we weren't going to be together 'like that' anymore, that I was still going to be there for him, as a mate.

I wanted to tell him that it was okay if he wanted to continue to work at the club; that we could be adult about it.

But when I searched nearly everywhere and I finally found him in Relish, he was up close and personal with that queer.

I saw red.

_Fuck this!_ I thought. I am not saying he couldn't move on, right, but we only just called things off twelve hours ago. Hadn't he heard of a cooling off period before slipping into the sheets with someone else? Some tall, ripped, athletic black guy with smooth moves.

I wanted to rip that gym junkie to shreds; to tear him to pieces and punch him until I beat out any ideas he might have about getting with Stephen.

'_Call me, yeah?'_ He had said seductively right there in front of everyone to Stephen.

The bastard.

I walk past _Look Sharpe_ on my way back to the club and, what do you know. That Noah bloke is in reception speaking to pretty boy detective constable Ethan Scott and...hang on... is that my favourite drug dealing Yank? I can't hear them through the thick stained glass but they are acting all chummy, back slapping and ribbing each other.

What an interesting mix of people. I raise an eyebrow as I continue walking and a plan hatches in my mind.

I take out my phone and send a quick text message-

_Time:_ 13.16, Saturday

_To_: Doug

_From_: B.B.

_Meet me at SUBAR. NOW. No excuses_.

The reply is quick-

_Time_: 13.17, Saturday

_To_: Brendan

_From_: Doug

_On my way. Do I need to worry?_

I smile to myself and don't bother to reply. I make my way to the student's bar.

-0-0-

"What do you want?" Doug asks nervously when he approaches me at one of the corner sofas that I am reclining in. He stays standing fidgeting with his rucksack. He is dressed in gym gear like that Noah was earlier. "I was about to start my gym session."

"New Year's resolution?" I ask conversationally.

He scowls in reply.

"Looks like you have made some interesting friends in the village." I say with a sly grin on my face.

He frowns. "What?"

"I saw you speaking to our resident boy in blue at the home for posers." I drawl snapping the gum in my mouth.

"Huh?" He looks confused.

I forget that some British sayings go past him. American!

"At the gym. I saw you with the heat, po-po, 5-0, bacon, narc, doughnut chaser..."

"Ethan!" He says smiling, finally understanding me. "He is my new roommate. I mean, flatmate. That's what you call it, right?"

My grin is cold. "Is he now?"

Doug nods, not realizing that he is walking right into my trap.

"Must be fun." I muse. "A copper and a criminal, all under one roof. What a ball to be had by all."

His eyes widen at my measured words.

"It would make a great sitcom, don't you think? I have an episode in mind. Tell me what you think. The copper, right, doesn't know that his flatmate is a thief and scummy drug dealer but then something happens and he finds out."

Doug turns pale.

I smile broadly. "Hilarity ensues."

I laugh maniacally as I observe his petrified face. The reason for this meeting has dawned on him.

Blackmail.

He swallows.

"I know." I pretend to wipe tears of laughter. "The plot points are a little rough around the edges but we can fill them in later."

He quickly sits near me and whispers urgently. "That lifestyle is behind me. I am trying to move on. Ethan is my friend."

"Oh Dougie-boy. A life of crime is never behind you. It's a bit like herpes. Once you've had it, it never lets you go. Not that I have had herpes. Have you? No? Good."

I pat his cheek three times firmly.

"It looks like you don't like my sitcom idea. Am I right?"

He nods his head numbly.

"There is a way you could make it vanish from my mind."

"How?" He croaks.

"Not yet. First I have some questions."

"Go on." Doug says worriedly.

"Who is the other guy you were talking to at the gym? How do you know him?"

"You mean, Noah?" Doug says. "It is his flat. We are sharing it. He is a nice guy."

I snort a laugh. That remains to be seen. "What is his deal?"

The student looks confused. "What do you mean?"

"Tell me everything you know about him."

I feel the small muscle in my right cheek twitch as I remember Noah passing Stephen his number. I double my efforts chewing my gum. It has suddenly lost all its flavour.

"I don't know much." He starts. "He is mates with Carl Costello's kid, Riley and Ethan. They go way back. School, I think. He is a personal trainer and gym instructor. Fuck me he is messy but he refuses to stick to the cleaning roster."

I mock empathy, "And does he keep the toilet seat up as well and not put the top on the toothpaste?"

He nods.

I get up in his face and sneer. "I don't give a fuck about your domestic situation, Dougie-boy. Tell me something important."

"Like what?"

"Is he with anyone?"

He looks surprised by my question but answers quickly, "No."

"Right."

"But he was." Doug says. "With some dude. They lived together. He's gay."

Shit. Noah is definitely after Stephen.

I pull away from Doug, and try to act casual, leaning back into the sofa. But I keep my eyes on the American kid. Sometimes I forget how young he is. Eighteen. Younger than Stephen. But it shows now as his nerves seem to get the better of him.

"What is this about? Has he done something to you?" He asks.

"Is that any of your business?" I ask in response.

"No."

"Exactly." I say.

"You aren't going to tell Ethan about my past, are you?"

I smile at his concern. "Not unless I have to."

He comes closer to me and whispers. "Okay, what do I have to do?"

I pick the gum out of my mouth and squash it onto the side of an empty glass on the table in front of us.

"A favour." I reply. "Not a word of this to anyone else or my sitcom idea goes to your copper flatmate, understood?"

He nods quickly.

"I want you to be my eyes. Watch every move that muscle Mary gets up to especially if it has to do with Stephen and report back to me."

Doug looks surprised again. I can tell that he is dying to ask why he is doing this.

"_Chez Chez_ barman, Stephen?" He says.

"Ex-barman." I reply. "He no longer works at the club_._"

"Oh, right. Okay." But I can tell he still doesn't get it.

"Well now, run along. You were going to pump iron, weren't ye? I would work on your pecks if I were you." I look at his chest and shake my head sadly. "Just saying."

Then I stand up and walk out of the student's bar.

-0-0-

It is Sunday night, the end of the weekend, at the club and I am bored as shit and pissed off. And it is only eleven pm.

Rhys, Jackie and the rest of the staff are doing my head in. You just can't get decent staff. It isn't busy but you would think that it was the Saturday before Christmas with how shit their service has been. We could have done with Stephen on a night like tonight. He is organised, efficient, friendly. He gets the job done with little fuss.

"_What happened to the wee man?"_

"_Hey, where is Ste?"_

"_How come he hasn't showed up to work today?"_

"_Dang it. I liked how he makes mojitos! Why did he leave?"_

Everyone, staff and regulars, seems to have something to say about him. And it is all positive. My reply is standard.

_His business. Not yours._

But I miss him. Fine. I admit it. Not because of some emotional connection or anything. But you get used to seeing someone everyday; the way they walk, talk, behave, smile at ye, kiss ye, brush up against ye, whatever. Speeds up the day. It makes sense, really. If you moved the table in the corner, I would miss it too.

You get used to things being around.

Now I just want today to end so I can get home and get started on the bottle of whiskey. It will make me feel better.

My phone vibrates.

I look at it and something in my stomach falls.

_Time_: 23.07, Sunday

_To_: Brendan

_From_: Doug

_Noah just told me that Ste texted him and asked if he wanted to meet up tonight at SUBAR. He made it sound like a date. But it can't be, right. Ste with that blonde chick, isn't he? Anyway, Noah is getting changed as I text._

"Shit!" I shout and punch the wall near me. A few people close by stare at my fit of rage.

"Fuck!"I shout as I feel the ache in my knuckles. I shake the pain away and look at the grazes on the back of my hand.

"Everything okay, boss?" Rhys asked with concern.

"Yeah. Get back to work." I say.

I gingerly text back to Doug,

_Time_: 23.07, Sunday

_To_: Doug

_From_: B.B.

_What did I tell ye about mindin' yer own biznis?_

I find Cheryl in the office.

"Hey sis." I start. "Um, I think I am going to head home. Head is killing me."

Cheryl looks at me with worry and gets out of her chair, rounds the table and touches my forehead.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Just need sleep."

She smiles sympathetically. "You haven't been yourself these last two days. You've lost your sparkle."

"I'm just tired is all." I defend trying not to think about Stephen and how he isn't here, now.

"That's fine. Take the rest of the night off." She says. "It has been tough without little Ste, hasn't it?"

"No it hasn't." I say, too quickly thinking she is referring to how I have personally been coping without him.

She looks at me strangely. "You are kidding, right? He operated like three men. You can definitely tell the difference now that he isn't working here. How are we going to replace him?"

I shrug and try to swallow the lump in my throat. "There are plenty more Stephen's in the sea, sis. Don't get all emotional."

-0-0-

I have changed out of my suit and into a casual black outfit of jeans and hoodie top. I am at the _SUBAR_ forty minutes after I got Doug's text.

Stephen and Noah are already there standing at the bar and chatting to each other with big smiles on their faces. They look like they have know each other their whole lives.

I grit my teeth against my drive to go up to them, head butt the gym buff and carry Stephen out of the bar over my shoulders like some Neanderthal.

They are there alone. No other friends. And they have both made an effort with their clothes, I can tell.

Fuck me. It is a date.

I hide myself in the shadows and watch from a distance.

This isn't strange. I am just making sure Stephen is okay.

I crunch my knuckles ignoring the pain and pop my gum as I watch and wait.


	5. Chapter 5

It is early evening on Sunday and I have spent nearly all day yesterday and today walking round the businesses in Hollyoaks asking if they have job vacancies.

The answer was 'no' every time.

I am disappointed and I feel lonely. Amy, Rae and the kids will be back tomorrow and I don't know how I am going to tell them what has happened over the weekend. Especially the kids. There is the job but that in some ways will be easier to explain than the other thing.

_Kids, daddy is leaving his woman friend, Rae, because he is finally admitting he likes men better. But he will still be goofy daddy to you so don't you worry. Everything is going to be okay..._

I get back to the empty house and pick up Lucas's favourite toy. It makes me smile just thinking about how excited he gets with it. Then I see the toy car that Brendan got and it shifts my mood.

It reminds me of him and how much I want him.

I move through to my bedroom that has been changed by the presents he gave me. It makes me think of him even more. The bastard. I can't escape him even when I am in my own home but that was the point, wasn't it? He wanted me to feel his presence even when he wasn't there.

Job accomplished, Bren.

I thought I would be able to turn my feelings for him off quickly, knowing that ending things was the right thing to do, but I am finding it hard to cope.

I crave him so badly. I want to feel him against me. In me. I want to hear his dry laugh and listen to his quick one-liners.

You have no idea how many times I nearly dialled his number today. I don't know how I have stopped myself.

But after resisting the urge for nearly two days I am tired and desperate and I know where to find him. He will be at the club now as the early punters start making their way in for a Sunday night of fun. Maybe if I go over there and catch his eye he will take me back.

_Stop it! You are not going back. Stop being weak._

So instead I decide to take the edge off the craving, like an ex-smoker chewing on nicotine gum. Don't laugh, okay, but this is what I do.

I strip out my clothes in my bedroom then get dressed up in one of the outfits Brendan bought for me. I don't know how he got the size right but it all fits perfectly. I slip my feet into a pair of cool leather shoes and then collapse back into the bed. I stay still with my legs and arms stretched out while staring up at the ceiling and feel the irresistible sheets against my hands.

Then I closed my eyes and I fantasise.

-0-0-

_'Are you ready, Stephen? We are going to be late if we don't leave soon._' Brendan says impatiently, speaking to me from the bedroom.

_'Nearly there.' _My voice is muffled because I am brushing my teeth in the bathroom. I am wearing an outfit that he bought me for my birthday; the one I am wearing on the bed.

I bend over to spit out the toothpaste and rinse my mouth out. When I straighten back up to stare at my reflection in the mirror and make sure there is no stray toothpaste on my face, I see Brendan through the reflection standing right behind me. I smile and then gasp in surprise when he circles his arms around my waist and forcefully pulls me back into him.

_'Why so shocked?'_ He asks. '_You surprised I have a reflection?'_

I put my toothbrush down and nod my head slowly while looking at him in the mirror.

'_Most vampires don't_.' I say grinning broadly.

'_I'm no ordinary blood sucker!'_ He murmurs in my ear, and then nibbles the lobe.

I love it when he is playful. He is looking hot in his dark gray suit, matching thin tie and black shirt. He doesn't normally wear ties but I guess this is a special occasion.

I can hardly believe we are where we are. Together.

He makes a show of baring his perfect white teeth and growling loudly. He does a good imitation of a vampire, I'll give him that. He then lightly sinks them onto my neck. It tickles but it is also so fucking hot so I move my head to allow him more room to suckle where he bit. His tongue and mouth do crazy things there and I groan then reach my hand up to comb my fingers through his hair. I don't know what it is about that spot that gets me every time. If he continues like this we aren't going anywhere.

'_Careful, my hair.'_ He says but I know he doesn't really care.

'_It looks sexier all ruffled_ _up_.' I moan.

_'Turn around._' He says softly and kisses my shoulder.

I follow orders. There are some commands that are a pleasure to obey. We look at each other and his grin is small as if he alone is enjoying an inside joke. I place my hands on his hips.

_'What?'_ I ask him, when he traces my cheek with a thumb.

'_Nothing_.' He whispers. '_It's just you look hot as fuck tonight.'_

I laugh then say. '_You are pure poetry, aren't ya!_'

He shrugs. '_Me_ _ma always said I had a way with words!'_

_'You don't look so bad yourself.'_ I say with a smile as I tug lightly at his tie.

He mocks disappointment. _'Please, don't hold back on the compliments._'

'_How about I _show_ you how hot I think you are?' _I negotiate with a glint in my eye.

_'Deal.' _He murmurs.

I wrap my hands behind his head and bring him down for a kiss. Not one of our ferocious ones; you know the kind where we can't get enough of each other. This one is slow but it is charged. We explore and discover and share breath and spit and tongues and...

I want to rip his clothes off...

_'Hey!'_ Bren says laughing slightly when he pulls away and I open my eyes to see my hands working on his buttons. _'Don't forget the meal.'_

I groan and drop my head against his chest. '_Can't we be late_?'

He kisses my forehead and then shakes his head. '_No. It will be fun. I promise. Come on. We'll fuck when we get back.'_

He throws me a cheeky smile which I return with a pout.

'_I'll hold you to that_.'

Who knew he would be the one having to persuade me to go out?

_'It will be my pleasure.'_ Brendan lightly kisses my lips and then stares into my eyes. He looks so intense that I am worried for a second. But then he grins and whispers,

'_Happy anniversary, Stephen_.'

-0-0-

I open my eyes and stare up at the ceiling. God, I am such a girl.

_Happy anniversary?_

I am delusional.

And I am sporting a massive boner.

Stupid fantasy.

I look at the clock. 22.30.

Shit. I must have fallen asleep for hours.

It was all a dream. A dream that has left me both emotionally and physically frustrated.

For the sake of my mental health I know that I can't stay cooped up indoors. I lightly rub against my groin. I am so fucking hard and all because of a stupid dream. I will have to take care of this situation. The challenge will be to do so without thinking of Brendan.

I laugh at myself. Who am I kidding? Of course I'll think of him while wanking. Sorry, but it's true.

I need to figure out a distraction, like a long term one. Something or someone to stop me from pining over my ex-boss before I do something stupid like run back to him.

There is only one person that comes to mind. Noah. He likes me. He is nice. I find him funny and I need a friend. As long as I make it clear that friendship is all I want then everything is fine, right?

I text him and wait impatiently while lying in bed. He replies almost straight away, accepting my invitation to grab a couple of drinks at the SUBAR.

I try not to feel guilty. Why should I? It isn't a date. It is like a night out with a mate.

But I know deep down that it is not as simple as that. Noah has said he is interested in me; like proper fancies me. My subconscious is trying to tell my conscious that maybe this is about making an Irish bloke jealous but my conscious is acting deaf.

I get out of the clothes Brendan got me and put them back in the wardrobe. Then I lay out my best clothes that I bought with my own money, on the bed and take a shower. I can't resist wanking off when I am there. Yes, I think of Brendan. I can't help it. The dream I had plays out in my mind but this time I convince him to stay home and skip our anniversary meal.

Believe me; we end up having much more fun staying in than going out...

-0-0-

Noah and I are standing in one corner of _SUBAR_ where cheesy pop blares through one of the bar's speakers. The volume went up and the lights went down a few minutes ago to reflect the change from the cafe/bar atmosphere of the evening to a more clubbing one. We are both working through our third pints of the night and things are going well. We have talked non-stop since we got here nearly two hours ago.

He has told me a bit about his past and I find out that he is living with one of regulars at the club, Doug who goes to Hollyoaks college and that new cute cop.

And I have told him more than I thought I would. He is so easy to talk to. So now he knows,

-That I have been seeing a girl called Rae.

-That I have a son and also raise another child as my own. I even told him their names like one of those stupid proud dads out there. Don't worry I didn't show him pictures of them. That would have been well weird.

-That I have never been in a relationship with a guy, like a proper one. What? It's not a lie. I have admitted that I was seeing someone for a while but that it was a fucked up situation.

"Let me guess. He was closeted, already taken or a commitment-phobe?" Noah says.

I think about Brendan who was technically still married and publically going out with Mitzeee. "Yes, yes and yes."

"Sounds like he was using you." Noah replies.

I nod. "It kind of sucks when you don't hear 'I love you' back."

"Snap. For putting up with that, the next two rounds are on me."

I raise my pint to him in a toast. "Cheers."

"So what do you identify as?" He asks. "Not that I believe in labels." He adds quickly.

"I don't know." I think about it. "I have fancied everyone I have been with, you know?"

He raises an eyebrow. "I think you are what my mate Riley likes to call 'equal opportunity'!"

He grins and I grin back before taking another swig at my drink. "Maybe."

-0-0-

We are now starting our fifth pints and I am feeling the buzz. We have both decided that these are our last drinks of the night.

Noah is fascinating. He has a way of telling a tale that is so freaking funny.

He is in the middle of telling me one that happened at work today.

"So what did you do then?" I ask leaning in closer to him to practically shout into his ear. The volume of music has gone up to a level where it is difficult to hear much without raising voices.

He shouts back holding my elbow to coax me even closer to him, "I told him that I wasn't interested in his wife but he wouldn't hear me out. Kept saying that he knew my type. Personal trainer preying on a defenceless woman with body image issues. She was older than my mother, Ste! Even if I was straight I wouldn't have gone there!"

I laugh. "Serves you right for offering to stretch her out after her work out!"

He grins back. "You're right! Never again. Honestly. He nearly thumped me when he walked in on us! And I know it looked dodgy but I was being strictly professional, elongating her biceps femoris!"

He takes a gulp out of his pint of lager.

"Her what?" I ask mirroring his action and taking a sip too.

"It's the back of your thigh. Picture this. She was on her back with one leg straight in the air bent at the hip and I was kneeling above her, pushing that leg up towards her head. My groin near her ass!"

I burst out laughing. "I think you can find that position in the _Kama Sutra_!"

"I know!" He laughs too. "Page 218!"

When our giggles settle, we look at each other and it isn't awkward or strange, just comfortable. He leans in and speaks directly into my ear,

"Anyway it works. The stretch, I mean. Right here."

One of his hands reaches behind me and touches the back of my knee and then runs up my leg until it stops just short of my bum. "If you don't stretch it out properly, it leaves you with hell to pay the next day."

I smile at him but feel weird being touched like that in public. I am not used to it so I slowly but deliberately move his hand away.

"I can see why the husband got all jealous." I say and hide my blush behind another sip of lager.

"Yeah and it doesn't end there. So I had this angry bloke in front of me who was threatening to get me fired for molesting his wife. I had to do something. Prove to him that there was no way I was hitting on her." He says loudly.

"How did you do that?" I ask.

He leans in close to my ear. "Do you really want to know?"

I nod, fascinated.

Noah smiles. "I showed him."

The next thing I know his lips are against mine. His mouth is soft and giving. I am so shocked that I don't react straight away. But I am immediately reminded of Brendan by how different Noah feels against me. His smooth face contrasts with Brendan's moustache. His kiss is gentle and unhurried unlike the kiss Bren gave me in the toilets of _Relish._ That one was packed with passionate and desperation.

My brain finally engages and I pull away.

"That is what I did." He says taking in my expression. "I think he got it after that."

I stare at him with wide shocked eyes

Fuck. What is he thinking? We are in public... and I only left Brendan two days ago. This is too early and I am still technically and publically with Rae.

I look around us. Damn. Did anyone see that?

"Sorry." Noah says. He actually sounds genuine. "I didn't mean to pounce on you."

I have to lip read him in the loud room and I'm shit at that.

"N-n-n-no. It's okay." I say. "It's just this is a little new to me."

He frowns and says something but I can't hear him properly. I touch my fingers to my ear, the universal sign to indicate an effort to hear. He shouts louder. "What part? The kiss? The date?"

"Both." It is all so exposed.

Noah's eyebrows go up. "Oh."

"Look, can we talk about this outside?" I shout. "I can barely hear you."

He looks at me blankly so I grab his arm and pull him towards the entrance ducking and weaving through all the students until we hit the cool night air.

I turn around to him.

"Sorry. I couldn't hear you over the noise." I say.

"It's okay. I have club deafness, too." Noah says.

I lean over the bars of the patio outside _SUBAR_ and stare off into the distance.

He walks up to me and stands by me. "Everything okay?" He asks.

"Yes. No." I say, and then take a deep breath. "I'm not sure this is what I want, you know."

"Not really."

I look at him. "I need a friend not a relationship."

He sighs. "Ste, why does it have to be one or the other?"

I don't follow.

He places his hand on the small of my back. "What I mean is, I like you and I want to get to know you. Is that a crime?"

I shake my head.

"And I think you sort of like me too." He says this as if it is a question.

"Yeah, I do." But I am not sure if I fancy him. That position in my heart is filled, at least for the moment.

"Then why can't we see how things go." Noah smiles. "No pressure."

I stare at him and what he says makes sense. "No pressure." I repeat.

"Yeah." He says.

I nod. "That sounds good."

"I had a great time, Ste." He says. "Really. And I wouldn't mind doing it again."

I grin. No pressure, right. "Okay."

"Only next time maybe we can make it a meal? So we don't have to scream to get heard."

I swallow. That sounds a lot like a date.

"It won't be a date." He says as if reading my mind. "If you don't want it to be."

He is convincing. "Cool. Only this time I'll wait for your call, yeah?" I smile.

He grins broadly and punches the air. "Yes! Score! I've bagged a second non-date with you!"

He does a goofy victory dance while beaming then stops suddenly. "Okay, I'm a little bit pissed. I don't drink often. I have zero tolerance."

I laugh. "You're worse than me!"

He holds his head and turns serious. "Yeah. Maybe we should call it a night." He groans. "I have work in a few hours."

"I'm between jobs, me. So I can have a lie in."

"Oh yeah." Noah nods remembering. "You said that the psycho-but-cute Irish guy with the 'tache at _Relish_ was your boss, right?"

"Ex-boss. Yes." It feels strange talking about Brendan. "I worked at _Chez Chez_ as a barman until two days ago."

"I can see why you left. Fucking hell that guy was insane! I swear he was going to thump me." Noah says.

I try to think of an excuse to justify Brendan's actions. "I think he was trying to protect me."

"From what?"

"Um. Well, I am not exactly out, am I? Not yet. He probably thought that you were some gay guy trying it on with a straight bloke."

Noah smiles. "I was trying it on."

I grin back. "Like, Brendan isn't homophobic, right but-"

Noah started to laugh. "Any sentence that starts with 'he is not homophobic but' is not going to end well!"

"It doesn't matter what he thinks, anyway." I say emphatically. "It's my life. I can do what I want so let me know when you next want to meet up."

"How about tomorrow evening?" Noah says.

"Yeah, okay."

He pulls me into a hug and lifts me off the floor for a second then let's me go. "Cool. Okay, I'm off. See you gorgeous!"

"See you." I reply with a bemused smile as he jogs off in the direction of those posh flats near the college.

I grin as I walk in the opposite direction towards the council house.

Tomorrow is going to be shit. There will be tears with Rae and I will have to start looking for a job again but Noah has made me feel like there is light at the end of the tunnel.

My stroll is leisurely and I notice that it is deathly quiet on the streets at one am.

Pub-goers are already home and the clubs aren't yet over. It is that lull period in nightlife where the streets are empty.

I think I hear footsteps behind me so I quickly look back but there is no one there.

I don't normally get worried walking home at night. I am used to it after months working at a club. But tonight feels a bit eerie so walk a bit faster.

I think I hear footsteps a few more times but each time I check no one is there.

Fuck. I must be going mad. The streets are totally clear. Thank God I am nearly home. I couldn't be more relieved. I know it sounds stupid but I say,

"Hello?" And look around waiting for a reply.

There is none.

I run all the way back to the house and let myself in. I shut the door, lock it and rest back against it with my eyes closed.

Home sweet home.

My heart is pounding out of my chest.

I need to get a grip. The lack of sleep and all the angst is obviously getting to me.

I take a deep breath to calm me down and then open my eyes.

In the darkness of the living room in front of me I see a shadow. It stands up and approaches me steadily. My jaw drops in surprise.

"Hi. You didn't expect me, did you?"

And I shake my head in shock.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hi. Warning for course language. I hope you understand that the language is not meant to cause offense but to add to the story; )! Also a story point- in this story Rae does not know anything of what goes on between Ste and Brendan unlike in the actual soap. Hope you enjoy chapter 6...**

Cocky, slimy queer.

He has his hands all over Stephen. I know his game. He is using the excuse of the loud music in the _SUBAR_ to get right up close and personal.

What I don't understand is that Stephen doesn't seem to mind. In fact he is lapping up whatever that scumbag is saying.

I stay back watching from the other side of the large room using the vantage point of the slightly higher floor. I see Noah order more drinks for them. He is taking the piss. That's five rounds. I've counted them.

Bastard.

Is he trying to get the boy tipsy? That cannot happen. Stephen gets uninhibited. Easy. I think about when we are alone after a few shots of whiskey. He gets irrepressibly horny, voracious, needy, experimental and tireless. He chews me up and spits me out when he is done. He wears me out. Our sex is out of this world. Ours. Stephen's and mine.

And Noah isn't going to have a look in if I have anything to do with it. Fekker.

I am so distracted by my thoughts that I nearly miss the piss taker's hand riding up close to Stephen's arse.

I see red.

I flex my fists as they hang by my side, opening and closing them, and let them crack with tension. My mouth chews on my usual gum more deliberately.

I begin to make my way to them. I don't know what I am going to say exactly. It doesn't matter. The important thing is that in the end Noah's face is going to be introduced to my fist in a way that his jaw will remember for a long time.

But it is taking a while to get there. Getting through the punters is like walking through treacle. So I shove them out of the way.

"Hey! Watch where you are going!"

"Asshole! You spilt my drink!"

"Uh, ever heard of 'excuse me'? Dick."

I ignore them and keep my eyes trained on Stephen and Noah. They have no idea but there 'date' is about to come to an end.

I am nearly there but then I stop suddenly in my tracks. My eyes widen in shock.

They are kissing.

Fucking properly full on. And neither seems to care that they have an audience.

Something in my chest squeezes. It feels painful, like being stabbed by a sharp dagger. When their lips stay touching and Noah's hand lies loosely on Stephen's hips and my, I mean, Stephen _DOESN'T PULL AWAY_, it is as though the dagger is inserted deeper.

I push my way closer to them but I am intercepted suddenly.

"Hiya Brendan!" Someone says grabbing my arm to stop me.

I look down to see Carmel McQueen dressed in a hot pink tube dress and white high stilettos.

I don't bother smiling. "Carmel." I say by way of a hello and pop my gum impatiently at her.

"What are you doing here?" She says with a big grin on her face. "I didn't think you liked hanging out with college students."

"I could say the same to you, sweet cheeks." I say. "Bit old for this, ain't ye?" I ask scathingly.

"I'm only twenty-five." She says defensively.

"I'm grabbing a quick drink with some mates." I lie easily.

"Oh? I am here with friends too, from work." She says grinning. "We like the _SUBAR_. It's just like Cyndi Lauper said, 'kids just have more fun'!"

She giggles. That girl is all fluff and no substance. Sometimes I wonder if she can tie up her own laces.

I need to get rid of her. I have a kiss and a date to break up. "I'm no expert on eighties dance-pop, Carmel, but I'm pretty sure it's 'girls just wanna have fun'."

She scrunches her face as if trying to remember. "Oh yeah!"

"Look I'd love to stay and chat. This conversation..." I point between the two of us. "... fascinating, really."

The sarcasm is completely lost on her so I try a different tact. "Next time I need a sedative I'll be sure to give you a call."

She frowns but I have no more time to waste. I look at where Stephen and Noah were a moment ago but they are gone. I look around me and cannot see them anywhere.

"Who are you looking for?" Carmel asks beside me.

I ignore her. The bitch made me lose sight of my targets.

"Fuck's sake." I say furiously and run my hand angrily through my hair. Now Stephen and Noah could be anywhere, copping off with each other in some dark dirty alleyway or the bar's male toilets.

"Bren, are you okay?"

Carmel is looking at me anxiously. I know why. I am hyperventilating and my face is probably red with anger.

"Top of the world." I sneer at her and then muscle my way through the crowd to the toilets. They aren't there. So I scour the room one last time before sprinting out of the bar.

I am just in time to see Stephen walking away in the direction of the council houses.

I pause and smile slowly. He isn't with Noah. Good boy. Even tipsy, he didn't go home with that eejit. The visions in my head of the two of them rolling around in bed together vanish quickly.

I nearly call out to him but stop myself. What would I say?

_"Hi. What am I doing here, you ask? Um, I enjoy the odd night time walk. Clears my head. Fancy bumping into you, like this,... by chance... So since you are here and I am here why don't we, oh, I don't know, say, go back to mine?..."_

I shake my head. I am being stupid. That could never happen. Stephen has moved on... and that's cool. He hasn't made one move to bring us back together. He doesn't miss us. He doesn't want us.

Not that I do. Don't go getting ideas. But I am conscious that _I_ am the one that chased him down at _Relish_ and that is keeping tabs on his every move now ...

I try not think about what that says about me.

I see a few drunken lager louts circle him a couple of times and sing gleefully to each other. They don't hurt or harass him but they look like they could cause trouble. He walks past them without appearing flustered at all and I am reminded that for him walking home alone at the end of a club night is normal.

I fear for his safety so I follow him. I don't plan to do anything specific. Just call me a well meaning guardian angel.

He nearly spots me a couple of times when he looks back with fear etched on his face. He thinks he is being followed. He is. But I stay in the shadows and far behind enough to be invisible.

Once he enters his house I hover outside for a long minute. I don't know why. He is safe now. Home. Alone. So I should go.

I press my hand on the door. It is strange to think that Stephen is just on the other side, so close and yet so far.

Whatever.

I have things to do so I turn around and head back home.

When I say 'things to do' I mean just one thing.

I enter the dark empty flat I share with my sister, pick up a full bottle of Irish whiskey and fall back into the sofa in the living room not bothering to turn the lights on.

I untwist the top and bring the bottle's mouth to my lips and tip some of the liquor in. I grimace at the neat heat that spreads down my throat.

I might find answers for why Stephen is having such an effect on me at the bottom of the bottle.

Fine I'll admit it. Not having him around is killing me. His absence makes me feel like shit; like I can't breathe properly.

I don't get it. I can't begin to understand my feelings so I anaesthetise myself.

Brendan Brady meet your bottle of Jamesons.

-0-0-

The next day, just shy of midday, I step out of the flat dressed in jeans, tee-shirt and jumper. Dark sunglasses shield my eyes and my swagger is back on.

I have one stop to make. _Relish_. You'll see why in a bit.

I walk into the fifties-style diner and get an unpleasant déjà vu of Noah kissing Stephen but I don't have time to dwell on it. I am here for a reason. I am looking for the manager; the guy who is running the place on behalf of Ravi Roy.

Stephen might reject my money and gifts but he is still jobless and broke. My aim is to get him a job but without him knowing I have helped secure it in any way.

I am the only customer so I take a seat at an empty table and drum my fingers on it impatiently.

A moment later I look up to see a familiar waitress walk up to me with a menu in her hand.

Her expression surprises me. Her blonde straight hair is in a loose messy bun at the back of her head. Her eyes are bloodshot and puffy. I get the impression she has been crying and has just got it together before coming out from the kitchen.

"Hi Brendan. Welcome to _Relish_ where the burger is king. Here is your menu. I will be your waitress today." Her voice is completely monotone, as if her soul has been stripped from her. Strange. That is how I feel.

"Rae?" I say to interrupt her. Why is she upset? I squint up at her through my shades.

"Here is your drink's menu. I recommend the 'Jailhouse Rocolate milkshake'." She continues quietly without looking at me. "Our special today is the _Caliente_ _habanero_ burger. It's a burger that blows your mind as well as your taste buds."

"I am not here for food." I say. Rae looks upset. She makes me uncomfortable and I don't know how to react to her low mood. "I came to see your boss."

"He is not here." She says.

"Are you okay?" I ask and prod her arm in what I hope is a reassuring manner.

After a moment she nods but this contrasts with the silent large tears that run down her cheeks. She sniffs and rubs her eyes with a napkin.

"Ste dumped me yesterday."

I stop chewing my gum for a split second. It is the only sign of surprise that I show.

"What? Trouble in paradise?" I say in a bored tone but my mind is going a mile a minute.

She practically throws herself onto the bench opposite me and while she continues to cry silently.

"He s-s-said t-t-that it is over. I d-d-don't understand. He told me that he fancied m-m-me once-"

My eyes glance across at her. I am holding my breath. "And?"

"But he says he doesn't feel what he should f-f-f-feel for me. He doesn't l-l-love me." She stutters with upset.

Her words remind me of how Stephen looked up at me in his room on poker night with honest, open eyes. He blinked hesitantly, put his hands on my bare waist and said,

_'I love you, too.' _

I sigh and shrug at Rae. "It sounds like he is a confused little boy."

"He s-s-s-said he likes ... g-g-g-guys." And she bursts into loud uncontrollable tears while my ears throb from the news.

Stephen has admitted he is gay to Rae. Why? Is it because of that Noah bloke? Did he mention our relationship?

My mouth feels dry as I ask, "He told you that?"

"Yes. I got back home late from the w-w-weekend to an empty house yesterday and I waited up to surprise him. I thought we were s-s-solid, Brendan. I mean the sex-"

I flinch.

"-was good. How can you fake that? But yesterday he said he had to be honest about who he w-w-w-was. He said being with me wasn't fair on me. He said that he had not been a good boyfriend."

She hiccups through her tears.

"What did he mean by that?" She looks at me with watery, red eyes.

"By what?"

She leans over the table to me. "Have you seen anything, like at work?"

"Seen what?" I try to play it cool. _Don't give the game away,_ I say to myself.

"You know. Stephen. Has he said anything to you about someone else or have you seen him hang out with anyone; a guy?"

I look out of the window to see the subject of our conversation walk across the precinct. He is alone but walking with purpose as if he is late for a meeting.

I look back at Rae.

"I don't make it my business to pry into the personal life of my employee." I cough. What a lie. I stalked Stephen last night; the ultimate in invasion of privacy. "Ex-employee."

"What? Is Ste not working at _Chez Chez_ anymore?"

"No." I say. "He quit over the weekend."

Right then I realize that my plan to strong arm the _Relish_ manager into employing Stephen is not a good idea; not now that he has dumped Rae. He seems to be on a roll; ditching lovers left, right and centre. I wish he would continue and ditch Noah too.

I stand up.

"Look, I came to see your boss not to be an agony uncle. My advice. You are better rid, blondie. For a relationship to work, both people need to feel that their needs are met. He can't meet your needs and you can't meet his. Be real about this."

I am addressing her but it feels like I am giving myself a pep talk. "Like I said, you are better rid."

And I walk out of the diner.

-0-0-

I take my phone from my back pocket and ring a familiar number as I walk through the precinct where I saw Stephen moments ago. It is phone number one on my list of quick dials.

As it rings and rings and rings I realize that Stephen is never going to answer. Not after everything.

And he doesn't.

He is ignoring my calls.

I am calling him because ... just because I want to ... get the presents I gave him back. It was what he wanted.

So it is a good job I see him through the windows of _Look Sharpe_. That place is quickly becoming a hot bed; a social epicentre.

I walk in and right up to him.

"Brendan." His voice is quiet, surprised. He is standing in reception with Noah and Tony. My guess is that the gym instructor is trying to persuade Tony to get Stephen a job there. Why Noah needs to have his hand on the small of Stephen's back, I do not know. It makes me grimace.

My grin is ice cold. "Morning, gentlemen. Or should I say afternoon."

"Brendan." Tony tips his head slightly.

"Oh, it's you." Noah says. "Look, I feel like we started off on the wrong foot. No hard feelings, yeah?"

He extends a hand out to me for a handshake. I ignore it. Instead I turn to Stephen, take my sunglasses off and hook them into my top's collar.

"Stephen, are ye not answering my calls now?"

"Um. Yeah. Sorry. I didn't hear it." He looks down as both Tony and Noah raise an eyebrow. Their expressions tell me that he is lying.

I glance at Noah who still has him in that possessive hold. Stephen shrugs out of it self-consciously.

"I need ye now." I say to him.

He swallows nervously and looks at the gym's owner. "Sorry, I am busy. Tony and me were talking about me working here maybe."

I raise an eyebrow. "Then you must have pretty short term memory, Tony tone. As I recall, young Stephen here stole from you and lost you big business. You must be a glutton for punishment."

Yeah. I go there. I don't want Stephen and Noah working at close quarters.

Stephen looks at me in disbelief and hurt at the blatant attempt at sabotaging his chances of getting the job.

Tony furrows his eyebrows. "I believe that people can change, Brendan. Sometimes they deserve a second chance. Stephen made an error in judgement. He assures me he won't do it again."

I shrug. "If you say so."

Stephen looks at me with narrow eyes. His voice is shaking. "I think Bren is speaking from personal experience, Tony. Some people never change, do they, Bren? No matter what they remain cruel, evil, stubborn pigs."

That tick in my cheek starts up again. That is how Stephen sees me. I shouldn't be shocked.

I can see Noah and Tony staring between the two of us in shock.

"Is there a problem?" Tony asks reading the tense atmosphere.

We both ignore him.

"What would the world be without cruel pigs, Stephen?" I ask him softly as I stuff my hands into my pockets. "Boring, I say."

The silence that follows drags on uncomfortably as the four of us stand staring at each other.

I state my purpose. I speak to Stephen alone. "I was going to come round to yours."

He glares at me so I clarify. "To pick up the stuff."

"What stuff?" Noah asks him.

Stephen looks at him. "Um, just a couple of things Bren left at mine."

"So shall we do this?" I ask impatiently.

He looks hesitant.

"We can talk later." Tony says kindly to him.

"I would come with you but I am working." Noah says clearly uncertain about what is going on.

I don't blame him. I come across volatile.

"It's okay." Stephen says. He glances at me with apprehension. "Yeah, let's go but we will have to make it quick."

I smile slightly. "Don't worry. I have plenty of other things to be getting on with after I am done with you. The quicker we sort this the better."

Why do I need to be so cutting?

"Fine." Stephen says. I clock his hurt expression and immediately regret my words the minute they are out but I don't take them back.

We head out of the gym and walk towards his place. He turns to me.

"So, do you have a van or something?" He asks as he stuffs his hands in his pockets mirroring my earlier action.

"Yeah. Yeah." I lie. I look at him as we walk. "So you broke things off with Rae."

"How do you know?"

"I saw her at Relish. You have broken that girl's heart."

"I know but it was the right thing to do. She has moved back in with her nan." He looks down. "At least she has a heart to break."

I stay quiet and let his implication that I am heartless slide. It is better that he sees me as a heartless, insensitive, cruel pig.

We walk in silence most of the rest of the way. As we approach his cul-de-sac I cannot resist saying,

"You and Noah seem to be getting on well."

He reaches for his keys and as we get to his house. "He is a decent bloke. There is no drama with him. Things are easy."

I smirk and say sarcastically. "He sounds exciting."

He unlocks the door and looks back at me as he opens it. "Careful, you are sounding jealous and we wouldn't want that, would we?"

I stare at him. When did he develop such balls?

"Who's jealous?" I say slowly.

He smiles knowingly at me but doesn't reply. I feel like wiping that smug expression off his face.

He walks towards his bedroom straight away and speaks over his shoulder when I follow him.

"I'll give you a hand. Disassembling and loading the bed will be a two man job."

"Okay." I walk closely behind him.

When we get inside, he makes his way to the wall mounted television and looks behind it to see how it is bolted to the wall, running his hands behind it.

"Um, I don't have a screwdriver." He mumbles as he continues his close inspection.

I walk up to him and I swear my intention is to see if I can help him take the TV down. But when I reach him and stand behind him, trapping him between my body and the wall, I smell his familiar aftershave and feel his warm slight body against mine and my mission changes.

It is beyond my control.

I rest my hands on his hips and push myself flush against him.

His whole body goes rigid against my touch. Then I gently run my hands up his body, gathering the fabric of his jumper as I go so that his midriff is exposed.

I wrap my arms around his bare waist and lean forward to kiss his neck. With every move I am sure he is going to push me away, but he doesn't.

But he does say, "Stop it, Bren."

I pull my lips off him but I don't pull my arms away. "You don't mean that." I whisper into his ear.

I drag a hand up his torso, under his clothes, and lay it flat over his chest feeling his rapid heartbeat. I hear him hitch a breath as I tweak a nipple.

"Did you even get a van?" He whispers as he lays his palms on the flat screen.

"No." I confess and lightly pull at his earlobe with my teeth making him groan. "And you know that."

"So this was just to get me alone." He drags a hand into my hair to coax me into working my tongue and lips near his neck over that area that makes him go crazy.

I say honestly. "I wanted to see you."

He turns around to face me but I keep my hands either side of him. Yeah. I am trapping him in.

He leans back on the TV and eyes me up. His face registers conflicting emotions of lust, confusion, anger, pain, desire.

"And ye knew what this was about." I say softly.

"No I didn't." He whispers.

"Don't play dumb, Stephen. Ye knew the minute there was no moving van outside and no tool kit. You just chose to ignore it." I duck in and inhale his scent and run my tongue over his upper lip. I want him so badly.

I can tell that he is battling his emotions so I try and tip the balance in favour of him letting go.

I lean in and give him a kiss. A tender one. It embodies how I feel right now.

When I look at him I know that I won't find it easy to stay away from him for a long time if ever. The proof is in what I am doing now when I should be as far away from him as possible.

The little fekker. He has gotten under my skin.

"Do you want me to go?" I whisper. I beg him silently to please say 'no'.

But he doesn't speak. He becomes steely in his resolve and pushes me away from him.

I open my mouth and say, "Stephen." I am ready to plead.

But then he surprises me.

He pushes me onto the bed so that I land clumsily on my back and then he hurriedly and silently strips out of his clothes.

There is only one moment of hesitation after he is butt nekked and standing in front of me before he crawls onto the bed over me.

I breathe, "Are you sure?" as I reach my arms up to cup his face.

There is something a little sinister in his actions. It is almost as if a part of him is disappointed in himself for giving in. But we both feel the pull and we are powerless to resist it.

He undoes my flies, pulls my jeans down and releases my cock from my underwear. It only takes a few pumps of his fist, just the way I like it, before I feel blood rush in and it engorges and thickens. He makes me so easy.

"Don't speak." He whispers before he leans his head down between my legs and gets down to business.


	7. Chapter 7

**Edited on 20-02-11...**

**0**

**0**

Brendan pulls away from our kiss and I slowly open my eyes.

"Do you want me to go?" He asks.

He must know the answer to that. But there is a difference between what I want and what I must do, right. He shouldn't have kissed me. It weakens my will power.

I make my decision when I push him from me.

"Stephen." He whispers reaching for me.

I nearly laugh. He thinks I am going to tell him to leave. He is so wrong. I shove him onto the new bed he got me and look down at him. He looks surprised but not as surprised as I feel, I promise. I honestly thought that I had more determination than this. In my head I figured that if Brendan ever tried to make a move on me after poker night, I would push him away.

But right now I can't think of a single reason why allowing him to touch me is a bad thing. He is too good to resist.

And he is right. Deep down I knew that this is what we were walking into when he offered to pick his gifts from my house. Despite what you might assume, Brendan is actually a pretty shitty liar. He gives the truth away through little ticks and gestures. I can read him like a book.

I strip down in front of him and shyly cover my chest with my arms. I ignore the part of me that is screaming at me to stop what I am doing,

_'You stupid idiot, put your clothes back on and get some self respect.'_

_'Stop being so easy and weak.'_

_'Walk away. Kick him out.'_

But I can't. I want him. Full stop. So I crawl onto the bed over him. He looks at me with eyes that tell me everything about how he feels.

"Are you sure?" He breathes as he reaches his arms up to cup his face.

This is why he is so frustrating. It is crystal clear to me that he wants me as much as I want him and misses me as much as I miss him. But he can't bring himself to say the words or to let the world know.

I don't answer his question. Instead I give him permission to say nothing at all.

"Don't speak." I whisper as I look down at him.

I don't kiss him. That is the extent of my pitiful restraint. I look at him while I free his cock from the confines of his clothes. I weigh it in my hand and fist it slowly in that way that makes him go crazy. It gets hard under my touch. Then I lean over to lick up his shaft from base to tip and he shudders and bucks.

Fuck yeah. I love that I can reduce him to a quiver.

I grab the base of his cock so that it stands thick and proud in front of me. I tease the head of it with my tongue while studying his face, reading every single expression of his.

He doesn't look away. His eyes are heavy like he is fighting to keep them open. I continue to lick him slowly like an ice lolly, savouring him and coating him with my spit and warm breathe. He inhales a hiss when I finally get him down my throat. Not to brag but I am good at this. Brendan says so too.

After the first couple of times of trying to give him head I got the hang of it without nearly puking from my gag reflex.

I remember the first time that I finally made him come from doing it. It felt so good, knowing that I could make him feel like that...

-0-

I pulled my mouth off Brendan's dick as he came off his climax and rode out a few intense shudders. Afterwards he got comfortable in his bed in the flat he shares with Cheryl. He lifted an arm up indicating me to come to him.

I smiled to myself feeling more than a little smug as I crawled up to lay down against him.

_'Stephen, have you been practicing? You have, haven't you? Good boy.'_ Bren said stroking my arm.

_'I haven't._' I denied, shaking my head. I rested my head on his chest and felt his heart rate gradually return to normal. _'I'm just amazing at everything I put my mind to.'_

He laughed at that and nudged his finger under my chin to press his lips to mine. I pulled away quickly in embarrassment.

_'What?'_ He asked softly.

_'Um.'_ I went red. _'Can't you taste ... you know?'_

I couldn't finish the sentence. I was embarrassed, okay. I could still taste his cum in my mouth. I thought he would find our kiss disgusting.

He stared at me evenly and slowly shifted out of our embrace to lie on top of me, groin to groin. He ran his fingers through my hair and his thumb across my lips then he leaned in for the most incredible kiss ever. Seriously. And he wouldn't let me pull away.

Then he whispered. _'Yeah I can.' _

I closed my eyes and mouth in shame.

'_Hot.'_ He said softly into my ear.

My eyes sprang open and I looked straight up at the ceiling because Brendan was already on a journey down my body, taking his time, savouring ever inch of me with his hands and mouth. I was about to get a schooling in how it was done properly. When he got to my groin he paused and looked at me.

_'My job here is done, young Stephen. The student has surpassed the teacher.'_

I smiled cheekily. _'Really?'_

I never got a reply. Brendan turned me into putty in an instant. He was wrong. In my opinion, the student still had a few things to learn from the teacher.

-0-

So anyway, let's get back to now and Brendan and me in my house, in my bed.

Now, I know what I am doing in bed. I have had plenty of practice over the last few months. And I use this skill to feel connected to the man I love even though I know I shouldn't.

I love opening up for him so that I feel every contour of him in me. It makes me feel hot and I know, without looking down, that I am hard and that my body has probably gone red all over.

I take him into my mouth to the base time and again and groan when I taste his precum.

"Yes." He groans softly and throws his head back against the soft duvet. "That's it."

I keep it nice and slow. I know he loves it like this but he will get impatient soon and get me to speed up by thrusting up into me or pulling me to him with his hand behind my head.

And for some reason that will make me feel loved by him; wanted. I am a sad git, aren't I?

I haven't moved on. Not emotionally. My mind and heart are always on Brendan. Lame, I know, but true.

As I predicted, he combs his fingers through my hair, stroking it before encouraging me closer to him. He groans at the feeling of me swallowing him and I moan. He runs his hand down my neck and upper back caressing me gently.

In that moment a thousand memories flash through my mind of me with Bren. I think of great times and then bad times.

God, those bad times, guys. I can't get rid of visions of tears, fists, grief, anger, pain.

I choke against him for the first time in ages and pull off him quickly gasping for breath. I sit back on my heels and wipe my lips with the back of my hand.

"What?" He asks looking flushed, horny and sexy as hell.

I don't answer straight away. I just study him; the man that confuses every part of my life.

The man I should be well rid of.

What am I doing? Naked. Exposed.

I know the sex will be good. That is like saying the sun will set tonight. That is not the problem. The problem is that Brendan has not changed. He is not prepared to be honest about who he is.

I stand up, pick up my jeans and put them on.

Bren sits up on his elbows. "Stephen?"

I glance at him briefly and then do up my zip.

"What?" I mumble shakily as I grab my top and put it on too.

He frowns and I see that scary tick in his cheek start up. The one that tells me he is suppressing some pent up deep emotion.

"The fuck is going on?" He asks confused.

"I need you to leave." I say, unable to keep eye contact. It hurts so badly to say those words.

"You what?" He looks angry. Really angry. He tucks his dick back into his pants and pulls his jeans back up and then jumps off the bed. He glides right up to me and grips his hand behind my neck firmly. That vein on his forehead comes up.

I won't lie. He scares me.

He pushes his face into mine. I am reminded of cracked ribs and brutal fists. But I will not back down.

I stutter when I say, "I-I-I-I m-m-made a mistake. This isn't w-w-what I want. You should go n-n-now."

"No."

He pulls me into him and devours my mouth, crushing our lips together and wraps his hands around my waist in a vice-like hold.

I keep my mouth firmly shut, though, denying him entry and then duck my head to one side. But he doesn't stop. His lips move to my neck. He is trying everything to seduce me. He knows that that spot right there is my Achilles heel.

But not now.

"Stop it." I say firmly.

But my words don't carry strength. He has heard them before when I didn't mean it. But this time I do.

I try to get out of his hold while he moves down to tongue my collar bone but he is not having it.

This is when I begin to really panic. What if he never stops? What if he forces through to the end? What then?

I choke a cry of fear when he uses a hand to grab my chin forcefully and push me back into a wall while the other grips my waist, digging in to the flesh. Fuck, he is strong.

He breathes harshly through his teeth and bares them to me.

"What if I am not ready to stop?" He hisses warm air at me.

"What? Are you going to rape me now?" I whisper back.

"Shit, Stephen!" He says in shock as his face drops and he loosens his hold on my chin. "I was talking about us."

I look away.

"I would never... fuck!" He says harshly staring into my terrified eyes. "Do you think I would be capable of that?"

I look at him. I don't know what to think. I am torn between love and hate. I am a masochist.

"I dunno." I say honestly.

"Jesus!" Brendan rushes his hands over me, lightly and slowly tracing my body as if it his property and right while keeping an eye on my face. He gently leans into me and buries his face into my hair. I hear him inhale and exhale deeply while he folds me into him so that my face is stuffed in his chest.

"You think I am a monster." He whispers. He says it as fact and then I feel his kiss on my head.

"No." I murmur into his chest. "I think you are confused and scared. And you don't know what to do about it so you let it out with aggression."

He stays quiet.

"And I think that I help you stay the way you are by being your little secret. Every time we lock the door and do what we do together away from prying eyes it becomes more seedy. More like something for you to be ashamed of. And I allow it to happen."

I pull back to look at him. "Why don't you just say what you feel, Brendan?"

"Because it is not who I am." He whispers. "It is not what I feel."

"Liar." I say softly. "You love me."

He searches my eyes. "You're an arrogant prick."

"_Your_ arrogant prick if only you opened up." I push him off me. "Now go."

He surprises me by pulling at my hair so that I stay in place. His action is so rough that I whimper in pain.

"So that you can be with that Noah bloke?"He sounds broken. "I can't."

"Yeah, you can." I say. This has nothing to do with Noah. "You put one leg in front of the other and keep going until you don't see me ever again."

I know. I sound just like him, don't I? It is said with more strength than I feel.

He looks down at me and the air is thick with tension. He releases his grip on me and smoothes down the contours of my tee-shirt.

Before I can reverse my words or push him even further away we both hear the main door to the house open.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

I know who it is even before I hear the kids giggling.

"Lucas, stop running please!" Amy sounds stressed out and breathless as I hear her in the hall opposite the living room.

Bren and I stare at each other with wide eyes. Damn. I didn't think she would be back with the kids until tonight.

"Mummy!" Lucas's voice is animated. "Car!"

"Yeah! My Little Pony. Look mommy!" Leah says, equally excited. I hear a rumble of cardboard boxes being shaken.

The kids have spotted Brendan's gifts. Great. What am I going to do?

I adjust my clothes while looking at Brendan uncertainly. What am I going to do about getting him past my family without being noticed? I think of a plan. Keep him in the room until the coast is clear for him to slip out.

Amy speaks to the kids. "They must be presents from daddy. Why don't you open them when he gets home?"

"No!" Lucas screams.

"Okay, mummy." Leah says.

I turn to Brendan in the bedroom and place my index finger to my lips.

"Stay here." I whisper. Before I get to the door he stops me. I look at him with confusion but then I see the gum in his hand and nod in understanding.

I take it silently and pop it into my mouth. I walk out and close the bedroom door firmly behind me.

"Oh you're here!" Amy looks startled. "I thought you'd be at work."

"Yeah. No." I say with a grin that I hope looks innocent.

"Daddy!" Lucas screams and runs towards me with his short stubby legs. His little arms are outstretched.

"Hey Champ!" I smile broadly as I scoop him up into my arms. Leah runs to me too and wraps her arms around one of my legs. "Hey princess. Have you guys been good to mummy?"

I glance at Amy.

"Yes!" They say in unison as if butter wouldn't melt.

"Good." I grin. Amy looks tired. "You okay?"

"Knackered. But we had a great weekend didn't we?"

Both kids nod.

"Until today. Your son decided to get lost in the supercentre near dad's place this morning." She says with a heavy sigh. "It took two hours to find him. I nearly had a heart attack."

My stomach drops. "Where was he?"

She smiles. "Guess."

"Near the washing machines?" I say in a heartbeat. Lucas can sit in front of ours for a whole cycle watching in fascination as the clothes go round.

She nods.

"Naughty boy." I say to him with a grin. He tries to squirm out of my arms so I let him down and he and Leah run towards their new toys.

"Can we open our presents now?" Leah asks Ames.

My heart sinks. I can't say no to them. I can rarely afford to buy them new toys so it feels cruel to deprive them of Bren's gifts. I am going to have to ask him how much they cost him and pay him back. That's my first _Look Sharpe_ pay check chewed into, already.

"Sure." I smile.

"Why don't you open them in your room?" Amy says and gives them both a kiss. "And what do you say to daddy?"

"Thank you!" Leah says. Lucas smiles, grabs the box containing his toy car and runs towards his room followed by his older half-sister.

Amy stares at me once we are alone.

"What?" I say.

"Is there a reason why your tee-shirt is inside out and the wrong way around?" She raises an eyebrow. "And when did you start chewing gum?"

"I, um." I look down. "No." I say, not making sense. I take my top off quickly. "We should check on the kids soon or there will be tears."

I pull my head through the tee-shirt and put it on properly. When I look at my best friend again her expression is the picture of shock. Her jaw has dropped and her body is frozen as she looks behind me.

"Hello Amy." I hear a drawl from over my shoulder. I close my eyes for a second hoping that the world will swallow me up. My heart thuds as I look behind me to see Brendan standing there as if it is the most normal thing in the world.

"Careful. You might catch a fly in that open trap of yours." He says lazily to her as he walks up to stand by my side.

She closes her mouth. "What are you doing here?"

"Boring story, really. I came to collect some keys off Stephen for the club. I can't have a former employee walking around with the business's keys now can I?"

Amy frowns. "What do you mean former? You fired him?"

"I quit." I say nervously.

"You what?" Amy's eyes widen.

"It's okay I have a new job. Well, nearly." I say. "At _Look Sharpe_."

"Stephen is just what that house for posers needs with those puny arms of his." Brendan scoffs sarcastically.

He has never complained about my skinny body. He is jealous. I can feel him smarting by my side. He is chewing at the gum in his mouth like there is no tomorrow.

I throw him a death glare. "I am going to be working in reception, not that it is any of your business."

"Whatever." He says.

"Why did you leave _Chez Chez_?" Ames asks.

"I'll tell you later." I look briefly at Bren.

Amy looks at me then at my gum filled mouth, then at him, then at my tee-shirt and then at the open bedroom door behind us.

"No." She croaks and takes a step back. "You two."

I shake my head and walk towards her. "This is not what it looks like, right." I say.

"It had better not be." She says shakily. "Because this looks like you and Brendan have been getting it on in there. But that can't be, right? Because you are with Rae and she sleeps in that room with you. And whatever you had with Brendan is in the past. That is what you both told me."

Amy is the only one who knows about us; the sex and the violence. As far as she was concerned they are both in the past.

"It is." I insist. "And anyway, I am not with Rae anymore."

She is stunned into silence so I continue.

"We broke up yesterday."

"Has it got anything to do with that?" She spits out angrily and points at Bren as if he is shit at the bottom of her shoe.

"Kinda harsh." He quips at her with a smile.

"No." I say. It is only half a lie.

"Look, teen mum, Stephen and I are through. He is all grown up now, apparently. Dating muscular black guys. And good luck to him. So don't get your knickers in a twist. I'm not part of his life anymore."

Her jaw drops when she looks at me. I stare at Bren. Noah is not what this is about. Brendan can use him as an excuse all he wants but the end of our relationship is his fault alone.

"Who is he talking about?" Amy says to me and folds her hands across her chest.

Right then Lucas toddles out of the kids' bedroom and grabs my hand while looking cautiously at Brendan. Thank God for the interruption of little kids. "Daddy?"

"What's up, champ?" I ask him and ruffle his hair.

He scrunches his face, points at his tummy and says, "Poo-poo."

I groan, Brendan laughs and Amy stares at me.

"God, I love kids!" Bren says in amusement.

"He is all yours, Ste." She says tiredly.

"Are you potty training?" Bren asks.

"Not that it is any of your business." Amy says. I look at Bren and her.

"So you are leaving, right?" I say to him. It is not really a question.

He nods. "Things to do. People to see."

I nod. This is goodbye but not in the way I ever imagined. I try not to let my emotions show.

"Good."

He forces a smile at Amy. "A pleasure as always."His voice is laced in sarcasm.

"Die." Amy retorts.

He laughs as he waves at my little boy. Lucas grins at him and waves back. I don't know how to feel about that. I scoop my son into my arms.

Brendan looks at me for a moment. "So, goodbye Stephen."

I can't look at him. "Bye." I say as i hold my son close to me.

Brendan sighs and then lets himself out.

"What the hell, Ste?" She asks me with angry exasperation as she follows me and Lucas into the bathroom.

"What?" I say as if I don't know what she is talking about. I pull Lucas's bottom garments down and place him on his potty. "Call me when you are done mister. Okay?"

Lucas nods and kicks his legs out gleefully.

Amy and I walk towards my bedroom which is only next door.

"What the hell is going on? Where has all this stuff come from?" She looks gobsmacked as she takes in the telly, bed and shoe rack.

I groan. Shit. I forgot about the gifts.

"And what is with the muscular black guy Brendan was talking about?" She sits on the crumpled bed.

"Long story."

"I have time."

"Fine." I take a deep breath and sit next to her. I study my nails as I whisper, "Brendan gave these things as presents to me for my birthday."

I can't look at her. I am a lying piece of shit. I cheated on my girlfriend and I previously told Amy that things were through with Brendan when they weren't.

"Be honest with me. Are you still sleeping with him? Brendan?"

"No." I say. "I mean. I told him we are through."

"When?"

"Friday."

"Three days ago!" She punches my arm. "Ste! You said things were over months ago."

I rub my face with my hands and then stare at her. "I have tried leaving him before, Ames, honestly I have."

"I think you need to start from the top." She says.

So I do. I tell her about everything; about being with Brendan, breaking up with him, telling Rae that I liked guys and leaving her, quitting the job, Poker night, my surprise birthday gifts and Noah. Everything.

When I am done, I feel so much lighter like a huge weight is taken off my shoulders.

Ames pulls me into a hug, "Oh Ste! When did your life get so complicated?"

She kisses my cheek.

"Dunno." I mumble.

She lightly strokes up and down my arms and smiles. "So does this mean I have a proper gay best friend?"

I pull a face. "No!"

"O.M.G!" She says as if she has just realised something. "I am like, your fag hag! Yey!"

"Shurrup!" I blush and bury my head in my hands.

"Daddy!" We both hear Lucas's whine.

"Yes, champ!" I call back without moving.

"Finish! Now! Please!"

"Coming." I stand up and look back at my best friend. "Thanks, you know, for listening and not judging."

She smiles. "No problem. But for the record I never thought Brendan was good enough for you. You are amazing Ste. You deserve better."

"Maybe."

"Definitely." She looks at me encouragingly. "Look, tomorrow we will start to clean up your life. But now you have to clean up our son's butt."

"Daddy! Poo poo!"

I groan at Lucas's more impatient tone. "Coming!"


	8. Chapter 8

Three weeks later...

# I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,  
But I couldn't stay away, I couldn't fight it,  
I had hoped you'd see my face,  
And that you'd be reminded that for me it isn't over,

Never mind, I'll find someone like you,  
I wish nothing but the best for you, too,  
Don't forget me, I beg...#

I stand up angrily from behind the desk in the office of _Chez Chez,_ pick up my whiskey glassand stumble towards the door. Why the hell are we playing ballads in the club?

"Rhys!" I shout furiously as I peek out to look at the bar and lean on the door's edge for support.

He is there smooth talking Jackie. I swear I could count the number of times I have seen that guy work on one hand.

"Yes boss." He says looking at me guiltily. The bar area is virtually empty. Not a surprise given that it is only six o'clock. The only occupied table is filled with a group of friends who look like they are grabbing after work drinks.

"Change this shit!" I point at the speakers and try not to sway on my feet. Some of the customers look at me oddly. "Last time I checked this was a club not a funeral home."

"Don't you like Adele? I think she totally nails how difficult it is to get over an ex." Jackie says clutching her chest and looking whimsical. "Her voice is beautiful."

I swallow against a wave of something that feels a lot like grief and shrug. "She sounds like a whiney cow."

I don't like the lyrics. They piss me off. They are unnecessary and they are making it hard for me to bury feelings I don't want to feel in my bottle of Irish whiskey.

Rhys grins. "How about something a little more upbeat?"

I wink at him. "There may be hope for you yet. I had you labelled a total moron."

I stay leaning on the door frame as he changes tracks. A moment of silence is followed by a tune that is unfamiliar to me.

Rhys says. "I'm not a fan of R 'n' B but you'll love this."

"I'll be the judge of that." I say. "And get some work done, guys. Hugs and kisses don't make money."

I stumble back into the office and shut the door behind me. That is when I realise that I am already pretty damn drunk so I fall back into the chair.

The new music track filters into the room as I stare blankly at our drinks order for next week as I have done all afternoon. I have become ineffective. My mind is full of thoughts. I can't concentrate.

#'Cause what you don't understand is...

I'd catch a grenade for ya  
Throw my hand on a blade for ya  
I'd jump in front of a train for ya  
You know I'd do anything for ya

I would go through all this pain  
Take a bullet straight through my brain...#

I stand up again. Fuck this! Are all songs now-a-days one big angst-fest? No wonder kids like Stephen are filled with visions and dreams of romance and open feelings and bullshit. It is a load of bullshit!

I look at my phone and go to my quick dial numbers.

This is it. If he wants things to be over, then fine. Contrary to what he thinks, I don't need him. I don't love him. I existed just fine before meeting Stephen Hay.

I look at the screen.

Stephen Hay

Delete contact?

Yes No

I hesitate for a long second and then press 'No'.

"Little fecker!" I shout and throw my phone across the room so that it splinters into its constituent pieces.

#Gave you all I had and you tossed it in the trash  
You tossed it in the trash, yes, you did  
To give me all your love is all I ever asked  
'Cause what you don't understand is

I'd catch a grenade for ya  
Throw my hand on a blade for ya#

Jackie barrels into the room and looks worriedly at me, "Brendan, everything okay?"

I look at her with wild angry eyes. "Who said you could come in, ey?"

She takes a step back. "I was worried. I heard you shouting."

She looks at the phone scattered on the floor, the nearly empty bottle of whiskey and then back at me. I pick the pieces up quickly and replace the sim card and battery before closing the lid at the back.

"Look, I know that we are not each other's favourite people but it is obvious that something is up. Is it about Mitzeee? Do you want to talk about it?"

I smooth my moustache and walk up to her slowly. I calm myself down as I look down at her.

Her eyes are gentle. What do you know? The girl has a soft edge. She just doesn't show it very often. She places her hand on my arm.

"Drowning troubles in alcohol isn't helpful. Go on then. Tell me."

I cough and then lean in close to her ear. I whisper really softly but clearly. "What makes you think that I am going to use a girl with the dress sense of a whore, morals of a politician and most importantly no ability to keep quiet as my agony aunt."

I straighten up and take in her upset face. I try not to let it bother me as I smooth my tie down before making my way out of the door.

"Tell Warren he is running the show for the rest of the day." I say as a parting shot.

"You know what, Brendan..." She says making me pause just outside the office door.

"What?" I ask in my usual bored tone.

"I don't know what has made you into the grade A cut of asshole that you are now. But I can tell you that whatever or whoever hurt you growing up has made you into someone a thousand times worse than they were."

A wave of hurt that starts in the centre of my being and radiates out but I keep it in and my tone even when I say,

"You don't know the first thing about me, sweet cheeks. Leave the psychoanalysis to the experts and stick to your day job."

I make for the stairs leading out of the club.

"You know what Brendan I won't bother asking next time!" She shouts after me. "I have new found respect for Mitzeee. How she puts up with you, I do not know!"

I laugh as I stumble to the outside of the club but it sounds hollow even to my ears. I look down and notice that I still have my whiskey glass in my hand. I throw it against the club's wall and nearly fall backwards from the force of my pitch.

"Brendan!" I hear behind me and turn around with a heavy sigh. This is the last person I needed to see right now.

"Have you been ignoring my calls?" Mitzeee says, slightly out of breath, as she teeters towards me in high heels and a faux fur coat. She comes to a stop next to me. "Not smart. People will start to think we aren't an item anymore and we don't want that, now do we?"

I sway and lean back against the club's doors and wait for the onslaught.

She squints up at me. "Are you drunk? A bit stereotypical, ey, Brendan? Let me guess. Irish whiskey?"

"What do you want?"

"Now is that the way to speak to your girlfriend." Mitzeee says in that catty voice of hers.

I rub my head as I feel a Mitzeee-induced headache coming on. "Cut out the nagging." I whisper. "This isn't a real relationship, remember?"

"Oh I know, believe me. But if you carry on disregarding me, ignoring my calls and not keeping up your end of the bargain I may just slip up and mention that a certain bad boy swings in an unexpected direction."

"Are you threatening me?" I ask menacingly.

"I am reminding you of why this deal works for both of us."

I push off the wall and start walking. I don't have a destination in mind just an aim; to get away from Mitzeee's irritating voice and annoying presence.

"Maybe I don't need our deal anymore." I say as I leave her behind.

She laughs as her heels click against the ground behind me, catching up. "What? Have you turned?"

I whizz round and hiss at her. "Shut yer face! Not outside."

I look around us and it doesn't look like anyone has heard.

"So what happened with the boy?" She asks curiously.

It is amazing how impervious Mitzeee seems to be to my anger and threats.

"Stephen is not a boy and he is not in the picture." My cheek twitches. I wish it would stop doing that. "Anymore."

"What happened?" She frowns for a second and then her face changes. She has come to a realisation and, Mitzeee being Mitzeee, she decides to share. "Shit! _He_ left _you_."

I feel my stomach drop but I don't justify her statement with an answer.

"I am right, aren't I?" She touches my arm and bores her eyes into mine. I don't like the way she is trying to read me like she is trying to find something there. "Oh my God, you are really upset about it, aren't you?"

Why is she smiling in disbelief? Bitch. Especially since she is wrong.

"You're still talking?" I look away from her intrusive stare and let out a shaky breath.

Her jaw drops. "I can't believe this. Brendan Brady, you act like the hard man but your heart is a bleeding mess because of that scrawny little ex-barman of yours."

"Mitzeee, I am warning you." I say quietly but firmly. I am shaking with anger at her false accusations. I take steps towards her so that there is no air between us. My stance is casual, laid back; hands in pocket. "Stop talking shit."

She laughs. "See, if it wasn't true, you wouldn't be so annoyed, now would you?"

She has called my bluff. I am reminded that she is a force to be reckoned with.

"Anyway, the point is there will be other Stes and then what? You will still need me as a beard."

"There won't be other Stes." I say but it doesn't sound how I meant it.

"Aww. Is he irreplaceable? Cute." She says sarcastically.

"Anyway, that is not why I came to see you at the club." She waves her hand dismissively in front of her. "I have an idea for another event to increase my profile."

"I don't have time to talk." I tell her.

"This won't take long."

"What is it then?" I say deciding to take the path of least resistance.

"Mitzeee's Charity Fashion Show." She says with gravitas.

I am unimpressed. "Not exactly original is it? There have been two catwalk shows since I came six months ago."

"Let me finish." She pauses for effect. "It will be a _male_ fashion show with a twist."

I stare at her for a long second as she looks at me with an expectant smile. "Was that the punch line?"

"Oh go on, it is a great idea." She grins, "And I thought you, of all people, would love it especially now you are foot loose and fancy free!"

"Funny!" I laugh loudly at her and then stop abruptly. "So how does an exclusively male fashion show increase _your_ profile exactly?"

She smiles. "I never said _exclusively_ male, did I? There will be room for one woman!"

She winks at me.

"So what do you think, baby?" She asks innocently.

I mock sweetness. "I support anything you do, honey cakes."

"Good. I'll get started with planning."

"You do that." I drawl.

Nancy and Teresa walk by and Mitzeee leans in to press her lips to mine gently. I pull back quickly and take a step away from her. I am this close to rubbing my mouth with the back of my hand in disgust but I know she kissed me for show.

"I can't believe he is still dating that skank." Nancy mumbles loudly enough for us to hear.

Mitzeee flips her the 'v' like the classy lady she is but they round the corner out of sight before seeing it.

My 'girlfriend' whispers in my ear. "Think of Stephen if you have to but never pull away from me as if I have rabies next time I kiss you in public."

I glare at her.

"And, by the way, you are going to be in the show. Clean up your act Brendan. Angst doesn't suit you."

She spins on her heel and briskly walks off.

-0-0-

I get home and feel like I am ready for sleep already and in it only gone eight.

My phone vibrates so I check the text message. It is my sister.

0

_From_: Cheryl Brady

_To_: Brendan Brady

Hey Bren. Jackie told me you left the club looking angry and sloshed. Are you okay? Give me a call if you want to chat or if you want me to stay home tonight. I was going to stay over at Warren's otherwise. Big Hug xxx

0

_From_: Brendan Brady

_To_: Cheryl Brady

No problem, sis. You hang out with your boyfriend. Jackie exaggerated. I was feeling tired. Gives me a chance to get Mitzeee over for the night! Talk tomorrow. BB

0

I walk up the stairs to my room. When I get in I sit on my bed and stare at my phone. I don't know why. It is not like I am willing it to ring. I'm not waiting for a specific call. Three weeks have passed without contact. Okay, that is not strictly true but that one time that Stephen politely said 'hi' without looking me in the eye and then made a swift exit out of the Drive 'n' Buy hardly counts as an encounter.

It's cool. I have moved on. Whatever.

I just don't know why he has to be such a baby about it. We can still be civil, can't we? Talk. Have a laugh. Go for a pint. Hang out. I don't know; even fuck around maybe... no strings attached or limited strings; strings that I can handle, not ones that tie you down or knot you up and make you feel like you are struggling. What is so wrong with that?

I nearly jump out of my skin when the phone starts ringing in my hands.

I close my eyes for a moment. Could it be?...

Not that I really care.

I look down, sigh, press 'answer' and put the phone to my ear.

"Dougie boy." I say.

"Yeah. Hi Brendan." He says uncertainly. "Is this a bad time?"

I look around me at a room that has fallen to neglect and is dark due to the night outside. I stand up to turn on its main lights.

"Not particularly." I draw the curtains and start putting scattered used clothes into the washing bin.

"Cool. I thought I'd give you a progress report on Ste and Noah."

He whispers so softly that I barely hear him. I still my tidying actions. "Why are you whispering?"

"Ste is here in the apartment. Noah invited him over for supper." Doug continues to whisper. "Noah made us all a really tasty lasagne served with a nice bottle of Chianti."

"Fascinating." I say but my mouth feels dry. Stephen is with Noah.

"Who else is there?"

"Riley, Mercedes, Ethan, Liberty, Texas and me."

I think about this and realisation hits. "You all brought your significant others."

I feel sick.

"Well Tex and I are friends with benefits."

"Ah yes, good ol' uni days, friendship with a helping of Chlamydia."

"Ew." Doug says. "I'm clean. I get checked regularly and I'm careful. Condoms until an all clear. You are obsessed with STIs."

"It pays to be vigilant, Dougie. Can we stick to the subject?"

"Okay well. So we finished eating about half an hour ago..." His voice drops again.

"And?" I grip the phone tightly in my hand.

Doug continues. "Noah asked Stephen if he wanted to check out his _jujutsu_ trophies in his bedroom. Then he threw down a chat up line that had me squirming it was so obvious. 'Cos Ste was like, 'what's that' and Noah said 'it's a martial art. The name translates into _flexible art'_. Then he looked straight at Ste and said 'the flexibility comes in handy. I can show you sometime.' Dude is bold!"

"Has Ste stayed over before?"

"No. I would have told you."

"And as far as you know has Noah stayed over at Ste's?"

"Don't know. I'm not aware of any times that he did." Doug pauses. "Look Brendan, I know it is none of my business but I feel really bad taking about Noah behind his back. He is a nice guy."

I fall onto my bed. Everyone seems to think he is a nice guy. "Then you don't know him well." I say without any basis other than a biased gut feeling.

"How much longer do you want me to keep telling you what is going on between them?"

I stop and think about this. How long can I keep tabs on Stephen and when or if Noah steps out of the picture will I do the same to the next guy that comes along into his life? I think about how I have been since poker night; a shell of my former self. I have been drinking too much, not working enough, being mean to people (meaner than normal), and thinking too much about things that should not occupy my mind.

"You know what, D-boy. Let's call time on this. Let's just say that my interest in Noah has waned."

"Don't you want to know whether Ste will stay over tonight?" He asks. "Even I'm curious. I want to know if Noah's lame pick up lines work!"

"Well I don't." I say and end the phone call.

I have one final thing to do before I succumb to sleep and dreams of a recent past with a brown-haired blue-eyed boy. I look at my phone for the third and final time since getting to my room.

Stephen Hay

Delete contact?

Yes No

I hesitate for a long second. He has moved on. And it is not like I care. I am not about to beg to get him back or to make wild declarations like he wants.

I press 'Yes'.

o

o

**I promise things will change but the recent Brendan episodes have shaken me and I feel protective of Ste's character. Let's face it, that Irish man is dangerous!**


	9. Chapter 9

Noah closes the door to his bedroom and walks up to a wall mounted shelf full of trophies.

"Hey, ya wasn't kidding, was ya?" I ask looking in wonder at his prizes. I walk up next to him and peer at the different trophies. "How many do you have?"

"Nearly twenty. I had a pushy mum who would enter me into any competition going."

He looks sideways at me and smiles. I smile back.

I have had a really cool night so far. Noah and I have a right laugh together. We get on well. But what I have really liked about tonight is that we are hanging out with his friends and it isn't weird or anything. The world hasn't stopped turning.

I have a suspicion they all think that Noah and I are an item. I'll tell you how I got to that conclusion.

Evidence number one. All the lads are here with their girlfriends. That would make me Noah's _sort of_ date for the night. I noticed this as soon as I entered the apartment holding a crate of beers in my arms. I thought it was the perfect present for three young guys sharing a home.

Evidence number two. Ethan, Doug and Riley are all being super nice to me; almost too nice, as if Noah has warned them to be on their best behaviour to impress me.

Evidence number three. They have probably noticed how Noah and me are pretty much inseparable since I met him three weeks ago. I see him every day at work now that I work at _Look Sharpe. _He is helping me out with getting a bit more bulk to my body and now I have a small six pack and decent definition in my arms. We go for after work drinks and nights out with his friends or Amy or alone. He has suggested going to _Chez Chez_ a couple of times but I have managed to come up with an excuse not to go.

Anyway, with that evidence, I can see how Noah's mates have put two and two together and come up with five but they are wrong.

We aren't together, not properly. I have told Noah that I am not yet emotionally ready. I have been honest with him. I said I needed to take a breather after Rae and my ex 'kind of' boyfriend.

And I think he gets it or at least he tries to. He is prepared to be my friend but I know that I am leading him on a bit. He fancies me and it is nice to feel wanted by someone who is totally open and unashamed of their feelings.

I don't want to let him go.

I look at my new sort of friend before gingerly picking up one of the bigger trophies off the shelf.

"Bloody hell! It is heavier than it looks." I say and read the inscription.

**1****st**** Prize North of England Championships- Junior Jujutsu**

I smile at Noah. "Impressive."

"I know." He grins. "I can kick ass."

I put it down again and turn to face him.

"I wanted to say thank you for the meal. It was really nice."

He frowns and then gives me his signature cheeky grin. "Just nice? I slaved over that lasagne for hours! All that blood, sweat and tears for 'nice'?"

"Oh no! I didn't mean it like that." I say in a rush. "It was brilliant. Honestly. The whole experience was great ... I, um, have never really done the whole dinner party thing, you know. I liked it. I felt really welcome."

I blush. We never did the whole sit down meal thing when I was a kid. Isn't that crazy? Today has been my first proper meal around a table in a home.

Noah leans in a little, closing the distance between us and lowers his voice. "Well, it was nice for me too. I'm glad you came."

Something shifts in his eyes and I am suddenly aware of how close he is. His breathing is steady and his intense look is unwavering. I can smell his aftershave. It is so different to Brendan's but pleasant. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see the blue duvet cover on his double bed and I realize where this could all lead.

I freeze when I feel his warm breath cross the very short space between his lips and mine.

Fuck. He is about to kiss me.

"I, um." I stutter and take a small step away from him. "Yeah. Shall we join the rest of the guys now that I have seen the-"

I point at the trophies.

He takes my pointing hand and intertwines it with his.

"There is no rush, is there?" He asks softly.

"Um, no." I swallow nervously. I stare down at our connected hands. My voice is serious. "Noah."

"Yes."

I look at him. "I can't do this." I loosen my hand out of his. "I thought I made that clear."

"Only your words are clear. But everything else tells me there is no reason why we shouldn't be together. We get on. We flirt even and I really like you, Ste. That is painfully obvious and I know you like me."

I nod. "Yeah, but I'm not ready."

"But you love my body, for example!" He grins and quickly raises his shirt giving me a flash peek of his toned abs.

I nearly lose my train of thought until I cast my eyes up to his face again and laugh in embarrassment. "Please! What gives you that idea?"

"I've seen you checking out my pecks and pert behind in the changing rooms!"

"As if!" I grin.

"The drooling has got to stop, Ste. Get it together, man! I know I have a hard sexy body but this is becoming embarrassing!" He teases me and winks.

I can't deny it. I have been checking him out. I am only human. Believe me, you would too...

"Well I could say the same about you." I say stepping up to him again. Noah has managed to change the mood to playful in a heartbeat and has made me feel relaxed again.

"Oh yeah?" His eyes are all sparkling with fun.

"Yeah." I say. "You keep giving me those eyes. The ones that say, 'You are one hell of a sexy beast, Ste Hay, and I want you now!' "

I cross my arms in front of me and grin.

"My eyes say that to you?" He asks. "I didn't know they could talk!"

I don't know when he placed his hands on my hips but I notice them when he pulls me to him.

"Ha ha ha! You know what I mean." I say softly. "You have them on now."

"What?" He says leaning in.

"The 'come to bed' eyes." I whisper. "Stop."

"I can't." He says and leans into me.

He kisses me and for a second I am surprised. But then I let him because it feels good. In fact I give as good as I get and for a while I think of nothing other than us. But then his hands begin to travel down my back and I am reminded of Brendan doing the same thing weeks ago when I knew he was begging me with actions to stay with him. It was the day we said our final goodbye.

It puts me in the present and I pull away from Noah breathlessly. "Okay. Okay."

"Fuck Ste! Things were just getting good." He says looking a little dazed.

I touch his chest. "Just give me a little more time, okay?" I ask and I know I sound like a girl but, fuck it, I am being honest.

"Are you giving me a definite maybe?"

I nod. I need to sort out my head but only a fool would say that Noah is a bad choice. I would be mad not to at least consider his offer of being with him.

"Yes! Score!" He punches the air. "Slowly but surely Noah is winning Ste over! Result."

I laugh at him and he grabs one my hands. "Okay, let's go join the guys. We can play a little C.O.D."

"Cool." I don't know what he is saying.

When we get into the living room the lads are gathered around the large flat screen TV watching Ethan play a shoot'em up type video game. They turn to stare at us.

"Hi. We didn't think we would see you for the rest of the night." Riley raises his eyebrows suggestively at his best friend and then looks at our interlinked hands.

"Yeah, we thought we could hear the Earth move!" Doug smiles at us.

"You are so funny, Dougs." Noah says in reaction to the ribbing. "Where are the girls?"

"Painting the town red. I think they are going to _Chez Chez_ a little later." Ethan says distractedly as he continues to play. "Ah, the fucker!" He screams at the screen.

"They decided to pass on _Call of Duty_." Doug explains.

"I wonder why?" I say under my breath. I am not big on gaming.

"You want to play, Ste?" Ethan asks.

"You're alright. I'll watch." I say and slip my hand out of Noah's so I can perch on the arm of a couch.

Noah cracks open my beers and passes them around. We look on as Doug takes over and demolishes his opponents on screen.

"Oh, you'll never guess who I bumped into on my way here. I forgot to say earlier." Riley says.

"Who?" I ask.

"Mitzeee." He says with a grin. "She asked me if I fancied doing some modelling for some charity show she is doing. Said I had the look she was looking for."

He looks smug as hell.

Noah laughs and says. "What? Buck-toothed and pigeon-chested?"

"Jealous!" Riley says grinning.

"Um. Don't think so!" Noah retorts. He squeezes my shoulder and gives me a wink.

"When is it?" Doug asks while rapidly moving his fingers over the commands.

"Don't know but there is a fitting on Saturday morning at _SUBAR_." Riley says. He hesitates before continuing. "She asked me if I had mates that might be interested in taking part."

Ethan groans. "Oh, no way, my missus wouldn't like that; other girls looking at her man's business. I am already in the dog house with the whole Theresa thing."

"And I'm not showing my junk to strangers. No sir!" Doug shakes his head.

"I don't know? Might be fun." Noah says. "What do you think, Ste."

"Don't think so. I haven't got the physique."

"Says who?"

'_That is just what that house for posers needs. Stephen's puny little arms.'_ I remember Bren said.

"No one. I would get too self conscious."

"I think she is using her bloke as the main model." Riley says. "But I might be wrong."

"Brendan?" I say as I feel my mouth run dry.

"Maybe it is better if you don't do it, Noah." Doug mumbles quietly.

"Why?"

"I, um, I don't know. It seems like a load of shit."

"It's for charity." Noah says giving Doug a funny look.

I look closely at the blond American. He looks on edge.

"Mate, you have taken your eye off the game." Ethan says to him.

"It doesn't matter." Doug says. "I just think that we should be careful."

Why doesn't he want Noah to help out with the modelling? Has this got anything to do with Brendan? After all, I know that they have done 'business' together in the past.

"I think we should do it." Noah says. "It will be a laugh."

-0-0-

I allow Noah to lead me into the _SUBAR_ a few days later on Saturday morning.

The place looks less like a bar and more like backstage at London fashion week. There are lots of cute looking guys in various states of undress being measured, dressed and generally manhandled.

I want to leave straight away but Noah tightens his grip in my hand and gives me a gentle wink.

"Oh there you are!" Riley says waving at us from the bar area. He is topless but has a smart pair of dark grey suit trousers on and an undone bowtie hanging from his neck, a blond James' Bond after a night of seduction. "Look at what Mitzeee has got me wearing for eveningwear. She is calling the eveningwear section of the catwalk 'deconstructed Bond.' "

Noah grins. "Nice abs."

"Stop eyeing me up." Riley smiles at his best friend but flexes his pecks at him. "Mum is going to kill me."

I am surprised. How old is Riley? He looks too old to be under his mother's thumb.

"She'll be proud of you." Noah reassures him.

"Where are Ethan and Doug?" I ask.

"Ethan got called back to the station. There is some emergency going on but he has been fitted already. And Doug is getting changed for the underwear section of the show."

"The what?" My eyes nearly pop out. No way. I am not baring myself like that.

"Um fellas." The three of us turn to see Mitzeee approaching us. "Less talking more stripping. You two are late."

"Morning to you, too." I say.

"Ste." She says and looks up and down my body that is covered in trackie bums and a hoodie top. "I see you are working chav chic."

She turns her nose up at me.

"Hey, don't be mean! Ste looks good." Noah defends me.

"I'll be the judge of what looks good here. It is my show." She says with a sickly sweet smile. She cocks her head to one side as she studies me. "You've been breaking hearts haven't you, young man."

My skin crawls at her words. I forgot. Of course she would know about what happened between Bren and me but she is mistaken. There is no way Brendan can be hurting the way I am hurting over the fact that we are through.

"Not really." I say shakily. "Some hearts are unbreakable."

"I'm sure Rae will get over it." Noah says. He doesn't know that this is not about her. "Sounds harsh but it is better now than later."

"I wouldn't be so sure. People put up fronts, alter egos, to make themselves bulletproof to the world. It doesn't mean they hurt any less. They just don't let it show. I should know." She says softly looking at me.

"Anyway, you boys are doing a good thing by volunteering. This is all for a good cause."

"What's that?" Riley asks.

She smirks. "That is to be announced."

Noah laughs. "So you don't know yet."

I look at the other guys that Mitzeee has roped into doing her show. I am clearly not like them. Tall. Buff. Good looking. Fashion conscious.

"I don't think I am what you are looking for." I say self-consciously.

She narrows her eyes at me. "Your look might work. You have that twink thing going on."

I don't know what she means.

"Take your clothes off." She says to me before turning to Noah. "And you too, hotness."

Noah smiles and disrobes quickly to his underwear and Mitzeee smiles in appreciation. "Nice." She says.

I scrunch my face up at her. "Uh. No. I'm not stripping in front of everyone."

"Fine. There are always some shy ones." She says. She walks up to me and pats me down. "You know what, I can feel a few muscles here. Small ones but they are there."

It should be a compliment but it sounds like an insult. She suddenly shouts, "Paul! Could you get Noah into his evening outfit and give Ste a suit to try out in the bathroom."

A harassed looking guy in the corner of the room nods and walks up to us.

"Once you've changed, weasel face; come out so I can see." She says to me.

"Not if you keep calling me that." I say and walk off with Paul.

He takes one look at me and hands me a light gray slim line suit. "You'll look great in this."

I am not as convinced. Me, in a suit? I don't think so. "Where is the shirt?"

"You know where the bathrooms are, yeah?" Paul raises an eyebrow and then walks away. So I guess that means that there is no shirt.

I take my suit and make my way towards the bathrooms that are doubling up as changing rooms for the shy ones amongst us.

I pass Doug... in underwear only.

"Ste!" He says in surprise and cups himself.

"Hi."

"Look at what Mitzeee has done to me." He says. I briefly take in the bright multicolour boxer briefs he is wearing.

"I'm refusing." I say.

"You can try." He says.

I try to get round him but he blocks my path. "Um, where are you going?"

I frown at his suddenly nervous expression. I show him my suit and look at him as if he is going crazy.

"Getting changed in there." I point at the closed door of the male bathrooms.

"Um, yeah, right. Okay." He looks back at the door as if undecided about what to do next.

"Doug, you are blocking my way."

"Oh." He steps aside and lets me pass. "Good luck."

I throw him a look that lets him know that I think he is acting weird.

When I get into the bathroom I get why.

Brendan is standing there in a black one-button, single breasted dinner suit. The suit jacket is open and he is shirtless underneath but his bow tie is done up perfectly and his feet are bare.

What I don't understand is why Doug knew to be nervous for me. He doesn't know about me and Brendan, does he?

Brendan stares at me evenly. He must be just as shocked to see me here as I am to see him. He looks so hot that I nearly drop my suit. After ogling him for longer than appropriate I look anywhere but at him.

I turn my back to him and put my suit on a level surface. What now? I can't get changed in front of him.

"I'll leave." I hear him say.

I turn to face him. "That isn't necessary."

"Come off it. I am obviously making you feel uncomfortable, Stephen."

We are as far from each other as we can be in this room but I feel him as if he is right by me.

"It's okay. Really." I lie. I have to be adult about this. I can't keep avoiding him. Hollyoaks is too small and we have to find out a way to exist in the same space.

I quickly take off my clothes until I am down to my boxers. I can't believe that he stares at me throughout. My body is burning under his gaze.

"I didn't think you were doing the show." He says.

I quickly slip into the trousers. "Um, No. I wasn't but Noa-, um, a mate, persuaded me."

I throw on the suit jacket and look in the mirror so that I catch Brendan in the reflection. It fits perfectly. I don't look half bad in it.

"Your boyfriend." Bren says.

"He is a friend." I clarify. "We are seeing how things go."

He nods. "I see."

I do up my zip and button up my trousers and then do the two buttons of the suit.

I see him walk up to me in the mirror. "Turn around."

I do and I hold my breath. What is he going to do?

He grabs my lapels and runs his hands down them until he gets to the pockets of my jacket. He extracts a bowtie.

"Dickie bow." He says.

He wraps it around my neck and tugs lightly forcing me closer to him. He breaths in, inhaling me and then breaths out again, really slowly.

Then he undoes the buttons on my suit jacket.

"He makes you happy?" He whispers as he rests his forehead against mine.

"Yes." I say.

He pulls away from me.

"Good. Good." He pats my chest twice.

"Does Doug know about us?" I ask. He looks tired. "He has been acting strange to Noah. To me."

"No." He says. He closes his eyes for a second. "But he thinks something is up with you, Noah and me."

My heart thuds. "Why?"

"Because I asked him to do something. I asked him to tell me whenever you and Noah got together."

I can't believe it. He was keeping tabs on me. "Were you worried I would tell him about you? I haven't. I wouldn't. I know how much keeping who you are secret is important to you."

He stares at me. "You think I was worried about you outing me?"

"Weren't you?" Why else had he asked Doug to stalk me and Noah?

He says nothing for a moment. "You went to his for supper on Tuesday. You had lasagne and he showed you his martial arts prizes."

I take a step away from him. He is freaking me out. "That is not funny. Stop having me followed." I say.

"I have stopped already." He says and closes the gap between us again. "But there is something that I can't get out of my head."

"What is that?"

"Did you and him...?" He searches my faces and swallows. "Have you slept together?"

"That is none of your business."

He stares me down. "You haven't."

I push at him. I hate that he is the one that is holding me back from moving things forward with Noah. "I should get back out there. Mitzeee wants to see if the suit fits."

"It does. You look good." He says softly.

I smile instinctively. Compliments from him are so rare. "Thank you." I say honestly.

I see his cheek twitching.

"Brendan, I hope that one day we can be friends." I continue. "If you want me as one."

He stares at me and then walks to the door. My heart slumps in my chest. He doesn't want anything to do with me.

"Are you coming then?" He says. "We don't want to piss my girlfriend off."

He smiles briefly and I follow him out of the bathroom.


	10. Chapter 10

Mitzeee is in her element. I can hear her bossing the toned, bronzed, half-clothed men in the main room of the _SUBAR_ even before I see her as Stephen and I make our way back from the bathroom.

She is standing next to Riley, Doug and of course the ever present man by Stephen's side, Noah.

Doug has wrapped a towel around his waist to cover the underwear Mitzeee told him to wear. He looks nervously between Noah and me. He must be wondering what my issue is with his flatmate; why I had asked him to follow the fitness trainer. I can see that he is worried for his friend. He detects bad blood between us.

It makes me smirk. Good. Hopefully he will never realize the truth behind my problem with Noah.

"Hey baby cakes! There you are!" Mitzeee says with a wide smile on her face as I approach her. "You look gorgeous! Doesn't he look great?" She asks the lads.

They shrug.

"Thank you, honey bun." I say in my most saccharine tone to her. Stephen is right behind me and I briefly look back at him.

I see Mitzeee's smile falter as she spots him. She looks sceptically between us. "Baby, where did you bump into weasel face?"

I give her a warning look and side glance to the three guys in our company that are not in the know about Stephen, me and our past.

"The changing room. We were catching up." I say slowly and deliberately to her. "Remembering the good ol' days at _Chez Chez_."

Mitzeee looks genuinely upset. She has always hated when Stephen and me get together in public or private. I guess it threatens her cover; the sought after glamour girl, dating bad man about town, Brendan Brady.

The truth is all too different.

"Stop calling me weasel face." Stephen says to her in that whining voice that I never thought I would miss. Not that I do really. It is just more _convenient_ for us to be on speaking terms again after nearly a month of him giving me the cold shoulder. It must have taken a lot of energy to constantly avoid me. I know that is what he has been doing. I have seen him duck, fall silent, make a quick exit or change direction when we accidentally cross paths.

"Don't mind her." Noah says. He walks up to Stephen and lays his hands on his lapels the way I did moments ago in the bathroom. He then proceeds to shamelessly eye up my ex-employee and makes it clear that he likes what he sees.

"You look sexy." He says softly to Stephen.

Fecker! I want to slap his hands off the lad. I flex my fingers before making them into fists then I set my jaw. I can't tell you how much I want to smash him to pieces. But my surroundings stop me from acting out.

Stephen looks uncomfortable at the praise. "I'm not used to suits." He says looking right into the fecker's eyes.

"That is a crying shame because they suit you." Noah smiles. It is as if no one else is there when he speaks to Stephen.

"You keep going with those smooth lines, bro!" Riley says laughing so that Stephen pulls out of Noah's contact self-consciously and Noah coughs in embarrassment. I could kiss Noah's blond friend for breaking their soppy moment. When did they get so close? It has only been a few weeks since they met.

"I like your suit too." Stephen says to Noah.

"Thanks."

"What do you know? You can scrub up when the occasion calls for it, Ste." Mitzeee says bluntly. "Yeah. Bit of a haircut and, who knows, you might look good enough for someone to be proud enough to publically call you theirs."

Stephen and I look sharply at Mitzeee. That was an unnecessary jibe.

"Mitzeee." I warn her with my tone.

"Not everyone rates appearance like you do." He says pouting that full lower lip out in a way that makes me want to caress across it with my tongue.

"Clearly." She says with a raised eyebrow. "Anyway, let's concentrate on the show, ey, starting with you, darling."

I frown at her.

"You and Noah are going to open the eveningwear section."

"Seriously?" Noah says. I can see why he has reservations. Saying we haven't been on great terms is an understatement.

"Why, sugar lump?" I say, trying not to let my anger bubble over at her plans.

"Look at what you are wearing." She says with a smile. "You both look amazing, by the way."

I look at Noah's suit and then mine. Fecking Mitzeee.

We are in the same design of suit but our colours are different. Mine is jet black. I'll let you guess what colour Noah's is.

We are opposites.

Light and dark.

Day and night.

Ying and Yang.

Good and bad.

Our outfits say it all. It really is no surprise that Stephen chose him over me, is it?

"We've been teasing him that he looks like he is in a boy band." Riley says to Stephen with a grin. It is clear, from the way he speaks to Stephen that he has fit into their group of friends easily. For some reason that pisses me off.

Stephen grins. "Now that you mention it!"

Noah laughs. "I'm like the fifth member of Westlife!"

"Nah, nah! Who were that group from the States a little while back? You know the group where one of them came out publically?" Riley says excitedly.

"That's pretty much every boy band since time." Doug says holding the towel around his waist in place.

Noah wraps an arm over Stephen's shoulders and my knuckles crack from me squeezing them into even tighter fists.

" 'N Sync!" Riley says all of a sudden. "That group was genius!"

The lads laugh at his excitement.

"You are such a girl!" Noah laughs hard.

Doug cracks up at Riley. "I can't believe you have just admitted to liking them! My fifteen year old sister liked them."

"They were great! I saw them in concert." Mitzeee pipes up. I roll my eyes at her.

" _'N Sync_ never wore suits, Riley!" Ste grins.

"Didn't they?" Riley says.

"No!" Stephen giggles. "I get you, though. I so wanted to be Justin Timberlake."

"Be him or be with him?" Noah asks with a smile.

Stephen scrunches his face as he goes red. "Bit of both, I guess."

"Too right!" Noah says.

My frown deepens as I take in their easy banter.

"I don't get it." Riley says. "He doesn't look that good to me."

Noah releases Stephen to pat his friend on his shoulder. "That is the difference between us, mate. You are a straight guy with shit in your eyes and I have great taste in men!" He wraps an arm around Stephen's waist to emphasize his point...

And they all laugh again. Bessie mates having a giggle ...

It makes me see red.

...

"Fucking queer."

...

...

A pin can be heard dropping. That is how quiet the group of friends becomes when those two words slip out of my mouth.

I said that out loud, didn't I?

Mitzeee, Doug and Riley look at me in shock. Stephen looks at me with disappointment.

Noah takes a step towards me. "What did you say?"

I square my shoulders. My stance is unapologetic. Brendan Brady never backs down. I step up to him too so that we are eye to eye, toe to toe, nose to nose.

I pop my gum in his face. I speak slowly. "I said 'fucking queer'."

And then I raise my eyebrows at him in a blatant invitation for him to bring it on.

"You have a problem with gay people?" Noah asks calmly.

"Nah, mate." I say softly. "I just have a problem with you."

"Don't call me 'mate'. " Noah sneers.

"Stop it guys." Stephen says nervously next to us.

"Stay out of this Ste." Noah says never taking his eyes off me. "This is between your ex-boss and me."

"Yeah, '_Ste'._" I mimic Noah's voice. "This is between me and your boyfriend."

Light versus dark. Good versus bad.

"He is not my-"

"What is your problem with me?" Noah asks.

"I just don't like what you are up to." I hiss at him. Your hands all over Stephen. Undressing him with your eyes. Consuming him with your energy. Pushing me out of his head.

"I am not up to anything. I am just being me and you have a problem with that."

"Get out of my face." I threaten.

"Not until we settle this."

I stare at him. The silence is thick around us and I know without looking that every single eye in the _SUBAR_ is on us.

"I am warning you." I say.

"Go on then." He says defiantly and chest bumps into me threateningly.

I look at Stephen. He pleads with me with his eyes. He silently tells me not to make a scene and hurt his friend. I veer my eyes away from him to block him out.

"Not here." I say reluctantly to Noah and Stephen visibly relaxes.

Noah laughs drily at me. "You talk the talk but you don't walk the walk. The big 'I am'! Brendan Brady! I have heard about your reputation; scaring defenceless people around town. That head teacher. Ste's ex girlfriend. That Carmel bird. But now you are facing someone your own size and you can't handle it. You are nothing but a homophobic cowa-!"

My fist connects with his jaw before he has a chance to complete his last word. Even I did not expect that. It was like a reflex; weeks of pent up frustration finally let loose.

He hits the ground while clutching his face in shock and pain. "Argh!"

Stephen falls to his knees next to Noah before gently touching his face in concern.

"Brendan!" Mitzeee screams in angry surprise.

I ignore her as I hover over Noah with wild anger and a sore fist ready for more action.

"Step the fuck away!" Riley shouts and pushes against me causing me to stumble backwards.

Doug's hands cover his mouth in shock allowing his towel to pool at his feet. He is so stunned that I don't think he notices.

"Are you okay?" Stephen asks his fallen boyfriend.

Noah nods. He looks at me while wiping at the blood oozing from a split lip. "And now you are a queer bashing coward."

I open my mouth to protest and take a step forward but an army of volunteer models step towards me. I freeze and stare down at him and Stephen.

At Stephen. A man who was mine in so many ways. In more ways than I realised at the time. A man I have enjoyed burying myself in innumerable times and revealed more of myself to than I have to anyone else. He looks at me and he drops his guard as if it is just him and me.

His face is one note and full of pain.

He is barely audible.

"That was it, Bren. I thought we could try and be friends but that was your last chance. Don't ever try to speak to me again. If you see me in the streets walk the other way. This is it."

The force of his quiet words knocks me back.

He helps Noah up to stand and turns to my beard. "Mitzeee, I can't do the show. I'm sorry."

She nods curtly. Even she can't excuse my attack.

"Let's go." Stephen whispers kindly to Noah and he helps him out of the bar.

The silence in the bar continues and I look around me, particularly at Noah's best friend and Doug.

Riley cracks his knuckles menacingly. He doesn't faze me. He may look big but he is still a kid, barely eighteen.

"What are you staring at?" I sneer at Doug.

"Nothing." He says quickly and picks his towel up again.

I glare around me at the stunned faces of the male models, helpers and organisers of the show. I have had enough of this. I made a show of myself when I didn't mean to. I thought I was getting my emotions in check but clearly I am a long way from composed.

I slip into my leather loafers and take big strides towards the exit. No, I am not after Noah and Stephen.

"Brendan!" Mitzeee calls out to me nervously. "Love, where are you going?"

I tip over a rack full of clothes to release some pent up rage and shake my bruised fist. I don't look back at her.

"Out."

-0-0-

I hit the cool air outside _SUBAR_ and take a deep breath in. I am losing control and I don't like the feeling.

This is not like me. Why is it happening?

Maybe I need a break out of Hollyoaks like I did that time Stephen pushed things too far and forced me into going to that club for queers a few months ago. I could go back to Ireland and the kids. I miss them. I could go for a few days; hang out with them for a while.

I make my way home to check out last minute flight deals on-line. I get my keys out as I climb the stairs to the front door and look across at the flat two doors down; the one Noah lives in with his motley crew.

In a heartbeat I am in front of his flat's door. I don't know why exactly.

Maybe it is to tell Stephen that he and Noah can do what they want with each other; that I don't care despite what he might think. I know that he will think that my attack on Noah at the _SUBAR_ is yet more proof of my jealousy; that I care for him as much as he thinks or thought he cared for me.

But he is wrong. I am not a slave to my emotions, unlike him, and there is no place for emotions when it comes to my bond to Stephen; a bond between men. What we have,... had, cannot be defined with soft, fecking soppy words like 'love'.

What does 'love' mean anyway? Growing up, it was conditional.

My father- _'Son, I'll show you my fists and then pull you into my arms because you frustrate me but I still love you.' _

Or...

My older brother, the one I don't see any more- _'Come and do that theft with me, bro, then I'll love you.' _

Or...

My best friend from childhood- _'Let's fucking beat that homo up until his own mother can't recognise him, mate, then we can run together. We'll be brothers for life.'_

That is what love is; not what Stephen wants it to mean. He is living in a fantasy.

Love is not pure white. It is stained with blood. It is painful. It is demanding. It hurts.

I knock on Noah's door and wait.

When nobody answers the door, I think that maybe they have gone back to Stephen's house until I hear some activity inside.

I step back and adopt my usual casual, bored stance.

Stephen answers the door. My raised eyebrow is the only thing to give my surprise away that it is him not Noah. His shock at seeing me is more obvious.

"What do you want?" He asks when he composes himself. "Haven't you done enough damage for one day?"

I lean against the door and stare down at him.

I don't answer him. Instead I catch a whiff of his shampoo and it transports me to moments where the two of us have been skin to skin, sweaty and panting after an intense shag and I have buried my face in his hair while coming off a climax.

I take a deep breath in and Stephen looks at me impatiently.

"Well?"

"I just wondered when you were going to return my things." I say. It is the first thing that comes to mind.

His expression is incredulous. "Are you serious?"

"Well, it has been a long time, Stephen. I am starting to think you've decided to keep them." I say. "Have you? I don't mind."

"No, I haven't." He says quietly.

"Ste, who is it?" Noah's voice is distant.

Stephen looks behind and above him. I know the layout of the flats is similar. Noah is upstairs. That means that he is probably in his bedroom.

"Door to door salesman!" Stephen lies.

"Get rid of them!" Noah calls out.

"Bossy fella, isn't he?" I drawl quietly.

"I told you I didn't want to talk to you again." Stephen says angrily. He tries to close the door but my foot keeps it jammed open.

"What about my things?" I say. I am being an asshole, I know.

"I'll ask the guys to drop them off, yeah?" He says.

"Noah's mates." I say.

"And mine." He pushes against the door unsuccessfully. "Get out of the way."

I don't move my foot and he sighs.

"Brendan, why are you doing this?" He asks.

"Doing what?"

"You won't let me move on. Be with Noah."

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"You can't stand seeing us together. It tears you up. Admit it."

I stare at his pink moist lips. They are hypnotising. "He is a cock."

"I think you'll find everyone thinks you are the dick after your display at the _SUBAR_."

"I don't care what they think."

Stephen smiles coldly. "Of course you do. If you didn't care you would be out, proud and marching in gay pride."

"Change the record, Stephen." I say impatiently.

"I am not the one constantly coming up with excuses to see me. I am sick of this. I am trying to move on." He glares at me. "I'll ask Riley and Doug to deliver your stuff tomorrow. Close the door behind you when you are ready."

With that he walks into the flat and runs up the stairs.

-0-0-

I walk into my flat, slam the door shut and stride up to the lap top. Then I pace as I wait for it to warm up and bite at my nails.

I am angry. I feel trapped in my own skin.

Stephen is there with Noah, just two doors down. In his room.

What are they up to?

Why do I still care? Why can't I move on?

I type in my flight search and wait.

My phone rings. The number is withheld. With the enemies I have in the world, this makes me uneasy but instinct drives me to answer it after it has rang for some time.

"About fucking time!" I hear the familiar voice say. There is a smile in the voice. "Brendan, how's it going?"

I grip the phone tightly in my hand. I never thought I would hear from this person again. "Paddy."

"You sound surprised."

"I am."

"Look, mate, this is not a courtesy call." He says. "I need a friend. I need a favour."


	11. Chapter 11

So it is still Saturday morning, nine-thirty. The day has barely begun but it feels like too many things have happened already.

After I leave Brendan at the door of Noah's flat in anger, Noah and I end up in his bed together but it is not what you think. We don't have sex or anything.

'Fucking Brendan!'He moans when I guide him to his bed and he presses a tissue against his split lip. 'Now I can't even try to kiss you.'

'Who said I would have let you anyway?' I tease.

We don't have sex but you could argue that we end up doing something more intense and intimate.

We talk, like, for hours. We settle onto the blue duvet cover and lie down side by side, facing each other fully clothed as we speak in hushed tones.

Noah is straight to the point and asks me what the deal is with Bren.

I don't tell him anything that gives away our past sexual relationship but I tell him pretty much everything else. I tell him that he is a father and husband with an estranged wife. I explain they live separate lives and that he dotes on his kids as much as he can, given the distance. I admit that he has a violent streak and that I have seen him be quick to use his fists. No, I don't say that on some occasions his fists have been used on me.

I tell Noah that Brendan has dipped into crime from time to time and that I have, out of loyalty, turned a blind eye on some occasions. Finally, I tell him how Bren and I grew close through work; that I would go so far as to call him a friend but that things turned sour between us and resulted in me getting fired. I allow Noah to believe that this has something to do with Brendan's homophobia and his discovery that I am into guys. That is Noah's assumption and I do not correct him.

"He is a waste of space." He says angrily.

I open my mouth but cannot bring myself to agree with him so instead I ask him about his life and we talk about him. And then the tables turn and he asks me about me and my life. And he seems interested; like he cares. We talk about how we get along and how things are easy between us.

Then the mood shifts and he quietly teases me that I am playing hard to get but he isn't pushy or anything.

He reaches his hand across the short distance between our pillows and pushes hair off my face the way Bren used to. I close my eyes and flashback to those tender times just before Brendan would bring our lips together and my heart would swell with passion and emotion.

"You are killing me here." Noah says softly shattering my fantasy and I open my eyes.

I should get it through my thick skull. This is Noah not Brendan.

"Why?" I say with a small smile.

"I'm serious Ste. I am in trouble." He lets out a shaky breath.

I frown at him. I do not catch his drift.

"I think I have fallen hard for you." Noah whispers.

My mouth goes dry and my heart pauses for a moment. "Don't be silly."

"Don't belittle my feelings." He replies. "I know how I feel."

"We barely know each other." I say.

"I know enough to say that I think you are cute. Sexy. Hot. You have a wicked sense of humour. You are loyal. You are hard-working. You are responsible. You are brave. You are a little awkward and uncertain. I like that. I like everything about you."

I blush.

"You are irresistible." He says as he runs his hand down my arm.

"No, I am really not."

"You have no idea." Noah says emphatically.

I make a move to get off the bed, to create some distance, but he holds onto my hand. "Stay."

"I need to go to the _SUBAR_ to get my clothes." We are still in Mitzeee's suits. They are getting crumpled as we lie in them.

"And then I need to get home to change into my work clothes before lunch."

"Excuses." He says with a smile. "You have ages before your shift. Stop trying to run away from me."

Have I been that obvious? I settle back into the bed and look into his eyes sincerely. "I thought that you were okay with taking things easy."

"I was but a year has passed and I'm getting a little impatient." He smiles broadly.

"It's been three weeks."

"It's been exactly twenty-eight days and..." He looks at his watch, "Twenty-one hours of pure angst and blue-balls!"

I laugh at this. "Mr. Over-dramatic!"

"So will you stay?" He grins. "We could have a mind-blowing nap together. I plan to dream of ripping your clothes off and doing unspeakable things to you!"

"That's creepy!" I nudge at him but I can't help but continue to laugh.

"Of course, we could do it for real?" He raises and lowers his eyebrows suggestively at me.

I take his hand. "A mind-blowing nap sounds wicked."

-0-0-

I try to ignore the persistent sound to my left but it is unrelenting and slowly wakes me up from a deep sleep.

I groan and move away from it and into Noah's warm hard body. I open an eye and realise that my head is resting on his bare smooth chest and one of my arms and legs are wrapped around his sleeping form.

I try to edge away from him slowly so as not to wake him up. Thank goodness all he does is alter his breathing pattern for a moment then roll away from me. Then he goes right back to deep sleep again.

I reach for the phone and answer it with a whisper while slipping into my trainers. "Hello."

I tip toe out of the room, closing the door behind me quietly after a brief look at Noah.

"Ste. Where the hell are you?" It is Tony and he is angry.

I look at the time.

_13.15._

Shit. I am fifteen minutes late for work. I sprint down the stairs to the living area.

"Um, I. Uh." I think of an excuse. "I had childcare issues but it's sorted now. I am on my way."

"You had better be. I have had to pull Emily out of the spa to be on reception in your absence."

"Sorry," I say as I head out of the flat.

I end my conversation with him and walk past Brendan's flat. The chill of the weather forces me to cover my bare chest by wrapping the suit jacket tightly around me.

I instinctively look up at the window to Bren's bedroom, a floor above where I am. I am surprised by what I see. It looks pretty dark from my angle but there is no doubt in my mind that he has company.

Male company.

Good-looking male company from what I can see.

In his room.

And they are pressed up to each other in a hug that can only be the result of familiarity.

My insides knot with jealousy. Who the fuck is that guy? I have never seen him before.

I squint up at the two of them like a peeping Tom until they part and grin at each other slapping at one another's backs. I duck closer to the wall to avoid being spotted.

He must be someone Bren knows from his past. This makes me even more jealous because so far Brendan has been visibly shaken by blasts from the past turning up in Hollyoaks like Eileen, Macca and Pete. They have all carried secrets that he has wanted to keep buried so they have made him keep a distance, shut down, act up. But with this mysterious guy, Brendan looks relaxed, tactile, friendly and ... happy. It reminds me of when we were together away from prying eyes.

I take one last look up at him and nearly swallow my tongue in surprise.

Bren is staring out of the window right back at me and so is his friend. He looks at me evenly and his eyes narrow as he takes in my dishevelled appearance. I smooth my hair down self-consciously and adjust my trousers. I know what I must look like; like someone doing a walk of shame after a sneaky daytime fuck.

But I guess Brendan doesn't care one way or the other if I have been with Noah since it looks like he has someone else in his life.

You know what, I honestly thought that he cared deeply about me but didn't have the courage to admit it. I clung onto that thought because then I could justify all the times that I stayed after he hit me or threatened the people I loved and made my life a misery.

I am a fool, aren't I?

I finally see what I have been to Brendan all this time. It has taken me long enough.

I am just one insignificant guy in a long line of faceless guys that he has used and abused over the years.

I am nobody to him and the realisation hurts more than I thought possible.

I turn my gaze away from his unwavering one, spin on my heel and quickly run away, down the stairs that lead up to the row of apartments and towards home.

-0-0-

Noah walks into _Look Sharpe_ looking a little bruised just before two pm.

I walk up to him. "How's the lip?"

He gives me a quick kiss on the cheek before answering. "Sore, but I figure it makes me look like a bad ass!" He smiles and then drops his voice. "By the way, I missed you in bed."

I redden. "I, um, overslept. I was late to work. I had to leave in a hurry."

"I didn't realise you were starting an hour before me." He says.

Tony walks up just then and gasps at Noah's face. "What happened to you?"

"Brendan Brady."

"He punched you?" Tony asks. "Why?"

"No idea." Noah looks at me. "He is unhinged."

"I don't think you need to worry about him anymore." I tell him as I think of my conversation with Bren at the door of Noah's flat and seeing him with the guy in his window.

Tony says, "Maybe you should press charges."

Noah shakes his head. "Nah, what is the point? As long as he steers clear of me from now on, I'm cool."

"If you say so. That guy is a bully." Tony mutters and then walks towards his office.

Noah turns to me. "How has your shift been so far?"

"Busy." I say.

"Looks like it." He looks around at the bustling reception. "I have a one on one session about to start so I'll catch you later yeah."

"Yeah." I say and smile at him.

He heads for the gym but then stops and spins around. "Oh, guess what? Remember how Ethan was called to the police station this morning so that we didn't catch him at the _SUBAR_?"

I nod.

"Well, he sent me this really cryptic text."

He punches at some keys on his phone and then reads out loud.

_Mate, you will never guess who came into the station to bail out a friend while acting all shady? Brendan. I'll fill you in on the details later._

I trance out as I think of the guy in the window.

"Ste?"

"Yes?"

"You okay?"

I shake my head to clear my thoughts. "Yeah."

"Um, so I was thinking that we could go for supper somewhere when we are done tonight. We both finish at eight."

"Yeah, cool. Shall I call the lads?" I say.

Noah coughs self-consciously, "Actually, I was thinking about making it just you and me."

I think about it. What is stopping me? Nothing, right?

So I say,

"Yes. Sounds good."

-0-0-

The rest of my shift flies by. There are loose ends that need tying up, though. I figure out how to deliver Bren's things to his flat on the cheap. I call Doug and Riley up since I know that neither of them work on a weekend, and ask them if they can help out. Riley says they can use _The Dog's_ white van for transport. I can tell that they are both curious about why I am returning household goods to Brendan but they ask no questions. I guess they assume it has something to do with the tension between Noah, Bren and I and they would rather not get involved in the details.

In return, I promise to sneak them into the gym for free for a month.

We arrange the details and I text Brendan to warn him to be at home to receive the delivery. Riley comes into the gym to pick up my house keys and uses the opportunity to check on his best mate.

When I get home at the end of the day to get changed for my meal with Noah, I am taken aback by how my room looks. Brendan's poker night surprise gifts have gone. Now my room looks pretty much as it did before. This is not only the doing of Doug and Riley. Brendan must have been here, too. The bed frame, sheets and mattress before me are not my old ones but they are very similar. He must have bought them. How did he remember my room the way it was before?

There is no stamp of Bren here anymore and I feel unbelievably upset.

There is a message on the bed. I pick it up with shaky hands. I try to read it but my vision is blurred by tears. I blink to release them and they fall to the paper.

_As you wished,_

_BB_

-0-0-

I walk into _Realto,_ a nice little Italian restaurant in Chester and look out for Noah. He is dressed to impress and waves at me from a central table. I make my way to him.

Tonight is going to be a welcome distraction.

No Brendan. No Hollyoaks. Just me and Noah.

"Hi." He says as he stands up to welcome me. "You look great."

"Thanks," I say and hope my smile doesn't look too forced.

"I ordered you a lager." We take our seats again.

"Thanks." I reply.

He looks at me curiously. "You alright?"

I take a sip of my drink. "Yeah, why?"

"You look down."

"Things on my mind."

"Has it got anything to do with Brendan?" He asks.

I nearly splutter over my drink. "No. Why?"

"You asked Riley and Dougs to return half your bedroom to him today without telling me. What the hell is that about?"

"I, um." I stutter and feel myself going red. "It is a long story."

"I am prepared to hear it." He leans back in his seat and drums his fingers on the table. He is hurt and upset.

"Oh." I feel cornered.

"How come I feel like you are holding back on me about you and Brendan?" He says. "You haven't told me the whole truth about your tie with him, have you?"

"I, no." I stare at him. Shit, has he realised that my relationship and Brendan's went beyond friendship? "No, I haven't. I am sorry. It is just that I couldn't. It wasn't my place to-"

"He has been threatening you, hasn't he?" Noah says angrily.

"What?"

"Has he lifted a finger to you, been physically aggressive?"

"I don't follow." I look at Noah with confusion.

"I'm asking if he has been violent towards you because you are gay."

I stay quiet but look down at my hands and begin to shake.

Noah continues to talk. "I went to see Mitzeee to drop off my suit and I asked her if she knew anything about why you were returning bedroom furniture to Brendan."

My mouth feels dry. "What did she say?"

"That you lost it in a bet."

"Oh."

"She clearly thinks I am an idiot because that is not what happened, is it? She is a piss poor liar. I don't think she knew anything about this furniture."

I swallow hard. "No."

"What the fuck is going on, Ste?" Noah says pleadingly.

"Stephen."

Brendan's quiet voice cuts through our uncomfortable conversation. Noah and I both look up to see him standing in front of us with mystery man from the window by his side.

"Brendan?" I mumble in surprise.

"Noah." Bren's voice is curt.

"Brendan." Noah replies with open animosity.

"Hi." The guy next to Brendan says with an uneasy smile. He extends his hand out for a handshake. "Paddy. Bren's ... mate from home."

Was there a pause before he said 'mate'? What does that mean? I size him up. Height-wise he is shorter than Bren but taller than me. His form is slight but toned. His Irish accent is thick but his manner is soft almost mild; nothing like a friend I would associate with Bren. I take in his light brown hair and easy-on-the-eye features.

Like I thought earlier, he is a good-looking guy.

Bren keeps his eyes trained on mine and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Paddy is here from Dublin. We have come out for a bite to eat."

"No Mitzeee?" Noah asks sceptically.

"Lad's night out. No girls allowed." Paddy says with a gentle smile. "You fellas doing the same?"

"Something like that." Noah mutters narrowing his eyes at Bren.

"What happened to your face?" Paddy asks.

"Long story." Noah says as he licks the split lip Bren caused earlier at the _SUBAR_.

"Looks painful."

"Tit with a temper." I explain, not taking my eyes off Bren. The tick in his cheek sets off.

"I hope you gave as good as you got." Paddy says in his lilt. Somehow the tension goes right over his head because he then suggests, "Why don't the four of us make a night of it? We can tear up Chester later on; see what the town has to offer."

"No!" The three of us reply in unison.

Paddy's laugh is uneasy. "Am I missing something here?"

The silence that follows says it all.

"Actually, why don't you sit with us?" Noah glares at Bren. "We could all get to know each other better."

My eyes widen in surprise at his suggestion. Is he mad? He just wants to get to the bottom of Bren and me.

"I think Bren has other plans." I say.

But I have lost the only ally I thought I had. Brendan clicks his fingers and a waiter approaches.

"Could we have two extra seats please?" He says and rolls his gum in his mouth.

"Right away, sir."

The waiter is back in a flash and places the seats around the table.

"I think Noah's idea is great." Bren says as he sits next to me. He looks around the table. "Look at us. Just like one happy family."


	12. Chapter 12

A young waiter comes up to our table and breaks the tense silence.

"Buona sera, signori! Are you ready to order your food?"

Noah begins, "Si. Come primo vorrei gnocchi con funghi porcini e poi saltimbocca con patate per favore."

We all look at him in shock.

"What? Didn't I mention that my ex was Italian?" He says to Stephen with a broad grin.

Stephen smiles. "Show off!"

"Sei cosi carino." Noah says grinning at him.

The waiter raises an eyebrow.

"What did you just say?" I ask Noah sharply. He gives me a glare back but doesn't answer.

"What did he just say?" I ask the waiter.

"Something nice." The waiter replies with a slight accent and a smile before taking the rest of our orders and walking back to the kitchen.

I am a fool.

I am unhinged.

I have a death wish.

I must have. There can be no other reason to explain why I have allowed my past to collide with my present like this. This is a potentially unstable situation. This could end very badly. Paddy must never know about Stephen and me and Stephen must never know about Paddy and me.

_Never the twain shall meet._

Are you wondering why; what Paddy and I are all about? I can't say right now but you will find out. Let me just say that Patrick is an important person in my life. You'll see why eventually, I promise.

And Stephen...

When I walked into _Realto_ with Patrick I did not expect to see the man I used to fuck sitting there with his new beau. It caught me off guard. That must be why I went against an instinct that told me to get the fuck out of there. Instead I felt an overpowering pull towards Stephen and I had a morbid fascination to see firsthand what he could possibly find appealing in that bloke he was seeing.

So this is the set up. I am sitting with Stephen next to me on my left. Patrick is opposite me and Noah is opposite Stephen.

I lean back in my chair in the Italian restaurant that Stephen has begged me to take him to for months. He wouldn't have had this impromptu, awkward meal for four in mind, I'm sure. I stare at him and then Patrick and then Noah and then back at him.

The restaurant is as busy as can be expected on a Saturday night. It has a rustic feel to it; white and red chequered table cloths on square tables, lit cream candles poking out of used empty wine bottles, complementary mouth-watering breadsticks in straw baskets lined with cloth, gentle live Italian folk music by an in-house band, dim lighting and family style service.

Some might call it romantic.

Not that I care at this moment. My mind is otherwise occupied.

I chew on my gum and jerk my knee rapidly under the table as I study Stephen's face. It was once a constant in my life; at work and during stolen secret moments alone together. But now I barely see him. His hours are consumed with the gym bunny sitting opposite him who is consistently dragging Stephen away from me.

(My) Stephen.

"Bren?"

"Hum?" I look at Paddy and he looks curiously back at me. Did he catch me eyeing Stephen up?

"Where's yer head, mate?" He says with a tinge of concern.

I gaze at the three men in turn. Noah is looking back at me. Stephen is looking anywhere but at me.

"Right here." I say and tap the side of my head.

"Well tune in, will ye." Paddy says with a smile. "I was asking how ye all know each other."

"Right." I say. _Do not give too much away._ "Boring story really."

"You live nearby? We saw you outside Bren's place earlier today." Paddy says to Stephen.

"Um, no." Stephen blushes. What's that about? Did Noah and him fuck? My knee-jerking reaches epic proportions.

Noah grins and explains. "He was over at mine. I live two doors down from Brendan."

"I was on my way to work when I saw you." Stephen looks at Paddy through hooded eyes. He asks quietly, "How long have you known Bren?"

I stare at his expression.

Fuck me. He is jealous! Good. It means that he still feels something for me.

Paddy looks at me with a conspiratorial smile. "We go way back don't we, Bren?"

I feel like my heart is in my mouth. I get a brief but vivid and powerful flashback that transports me back to a time that I would like to forget forever. I hope Paddy doesn't say anything.

Not to Stephen.

"Childhood." I say.

"We have been through some shit but it has only made us stronger, right, mate?" Paddy says. "Lovers, family, friends. We love. We hurt. We learn to forgive. We mend. And we love again."

I nod. "Right."

Stephen looks between us. "Right." He echoes slowly then downs the rest of his nearly full pint of lager in one motion. I study his rapidly moving Adam's apple as he tips the pint glass into his mouth before he loudly bangs it, empty, onto the table.

Jealousy. Definitely. I resist an overwhelming urge to tell him it is okay, to touch him, kiss him. Right here. Now.

Noah gives me a smile that is full of venom. He touches his swollen lip and then looks at Patrick.

"Paddy, you were asking how we all know each other. Well, Ste worked with Brendan at _Chez Chez_."

Where is he going with this?

"Friend and employee?" Paddy says to me. "Like we once were." The tension around the table is palpable.

"Something like that." Stephen mumbles.

"But now Ste works with me at a health and fitness club." Noah explains.

Paddy leans back in his chair and snaps a breadstick with both hands. "And how do _you_ know Bren, Noah?"

I force a laugh. "What's with the inquisition, mate? I thought we were here for a good time."

Paddy looks at me calmly. "Just getting to know your friends better."

"I haven't known Brendan long." Noah says. He slowly licks his split lip as if toying with the idea of explaining how he got it. I hold my breath until he says, "I've bumped into him once or twice with Ste."

He lifts an eyebrow at me. 'Bumped', huh. He thinks he is so clever.

Stephen interjects nervously. "It's a small village. Everybody knows everybody."

The Italian waiter turns up with our first courses. Bloody speedy service.

"Here you are gentlemen. Buon' appetito!"

Once we are served we push our food around our plates. Appetites are running low. Luckily Paddy changes subject matter. He has always been good at that, endearing himself to others. He regales Noah and Stephen with funny stories from home and the three of them start to eat.

I can't help but look over at Stephen who is to my left as he politely listens at Paddy's jokes. But there is an edge to him. He is trying to figure my guest out. He won't. Paddy only reveals what he wants to reveal of himself.

Eventually, Stephen glances at me, our eyes meet and I read uncertainty, pain and jealousy in his. I wonder whether he reads the same in mine.

But his look is brief. He goes back to looking at Paddy and Noah and I know it sounds crazy but it feels like the sun has gone behind a cloud.

He is close to me. He can't escape the way he does when we cross paths in Hollyoaks; when I have wanted to pull him to me and shake him and tell him not to blank me. I have craved his attention, his presence in my life. I have craved the touch of his skin against mine.

Fuck.

Okay. Fine. I admit it. I want him with me but don't get mushy. This isn't love.

I need to figure out a cure for this. Stephen-itis. The condition is making me soft, weak. It is making me think pointless thoughts.

But until then I succumb to my urges. You must know what I am about to do. It is the biggest cliché, really, but I cannot hold back. My left hand wonders under the table and I place it on his thigh. He jolts in his seat arousing a look of concern from Noah.

"Alright?"

Stephen coughs and shakes his knee to dislodge me. _No such luck, blue eyes. _I ride my hand higher up.

"Yes." He croaks as I cup his groin. He points at his throat and takes a sip of water. "Pasta went down the wrong way."

Suddenly my hearty appetite is back. I use my other hand to take my first forkful of _carbonara_ while its colleague rubs his dick through his jeans. God he feels good as he stiffens under my touch, better than the pasta and that's saying something. The food is amazing.

He glares at me and subtly grabs my hidden wrist shoving me off him.

"Um, 'scuse me." He stands up, shoves at my shoulder with one hand and practically runs towards the men's room with his napkin still firmly covering his lap.

Noah stands.

"Sit down, Noah." Stephen says sharply over his shoulder.

"What's up with him?" Paddy asks, mouth full of lasagne.

"What have you done?" Noah says in anger as he sits again.

I shrug, "Nothing."

"Am I missing something?" Patrick asks.

I give Noah a wink then shove a large roll of spaghetti in my mouth, sucking a stray strand in. "Um, delicious."

-0-0-

"Stephen." I say when I walk into the men's restrooms. There is no one. Only one cubicle is closed, occupied.

"Fuck off!" I hear him say quietly as I lean against the partition of that cubicle.

"Yer food is getting cold. How long does it take ye to take a piss?"

He doesn't reply.

"Come on, Stephen. Open up." I lean my head against the cool wood. I am messing with his head, aren't I? Not wanting him like that, but wanting him. It isn't deliberate. It's just that I can't stay away from him, hard as I try.

"I'm serious, Bren. Leave me alone." I think he is crying.

I place my hand against the door and whisper my truth, "I can't. I'm trying."

"Not hard enough." He sighs. "Did you know I was coming here with Noah tonight?"

"No."

"I don't believe you."

"I don't expect ye to."

He sighs and sniffs. "I thought we had a deal. You've got your things back now we don't need to see each other again. Nothing binds us anymore, Brendan."

I want to break down the door and get in, show him that he is wrong. Something binds us. He knows it. I know it. Why is he lying?

I bang a fist against the hard wood and the chain of cubicles reverberates.

"Shit." He whispers.

"Let me in, Stephen." I say loudly.

There is complete quiet for a long moment and then the bolt on the door opens and Stephen appears.

His eyes are red and wet. His skin is blotchy. He looks broken. I have reduced him to this. He probably bargained on a nice night out with his new bloke instead I invaded his space and complicated his life again. I don't want to be the cause of his pain. I don't.

I step back and he walks towards the sinks. His back is to me.

"First _Relish_, then _SUBAR_ and now here." He whispers as he washes his hands.

"What?"

"We meet in bathrooms."

I think about this. "Yes."

"How seedy and shameful."

I walk up to him, lean on the sink next to his and look over at him. "It doesn't feel seedy to me."

"No. But fucking me does."

He dries his hands and faces me. A thousand thoughts pass between us unsaid.

A pimply teen walks in and looks at the two of us. I glare at him with untamed eyes and sneer, "The toilets are bust, kid."

I then indicate the door he just came through with a finger.

"Oh, okay. Sorry." The kid stumbles back out quickly.

Stephen shakes his head. "You are a tool, Bren."

I lean into him. He has styled his hair. He has put on that addictive aftershave. He has made an effort for that Noah. "You once said you loved this tool."

He grins softly but it doesn't reach his eyes. He brings his lips up to mine and for a second I think he is going to kiss me and I ache for it.

"Yes. I did, didn't I?" He whispers. "What was I thinking?"

With that he marches towards door but I pull him back into the room.

"What do you mean?" I say gripping his upper arm firmly and yet it feels like he is slipping away from me.

"You know what I mean." He replies trying to get himself out of my hold. "Restraining me doesn't change the fact that I don't love you anymore."

I let go of him and feel a sting in my eyes; like a burning that brings immediate wetness to my orbs. What? He doesn't-

I smooth my moustache to calm myself down and chew at my gum. Instant meditation.

"You don't..." I say. _You don't love me_. My heart... "Huh. Right. It is a load of shit anyway. Love."

Who needs it? The pain in my heart.

"That's it? That's your reaction?" Stephen whispers and caresses my lips with his eyes. He places a hand on my chest right over my rapidly beating heart. Yes. I still have one. I almost forgot. I hitch a breath when he places a kiss over it.

"You've got nothing else to say to me, Tin Man?"

I don't get the reference but put on my most uninterested expression as I stare down at him, chewing my gum slowly. What is the point in talking? He has made his decision and it is a decision that will keep him safe.

He pulls away.

"Fine. I am staying over at Noah's tonight, Brendan. Do you understand?" His voice is determined.

I swallow against a surge of possessiveness and crack the knuckles in my clenched fists.

"And I'm going to let him fuck me until I can't think straight." He spits at me. "Because you don't care one way or the other, do you?"

He is taunting me and my heart can't withstand it. Yes, you read correctly, my fucking heart.

I snap.

My brain short circuits and I find myself pushing Stephen backwards against a wall and he screams in fear and shock. His back collides forcefully with the wall but I don't stop there. My hand curls under his jaw and pushes him up so that he stands trapped on the tips of his toes.

He clutches at my hand frantically. His voice is choked. "You're hurting me, Brendan!"

I lean into him and lick my tongue into his gasping mouth. I am fucked up in the head, people. I know that now. I can't let him out of this room. He cannot be with anyone else.

I whisper, "Say you love me."

I see fear in his eyes and that flashback I had early come back to me. I am evil. I hate myself.

I push off him as the reality of what I am doing hits me and look at my hand with distaste and shock. Stephen falls to the floor clutching his throat, gasping for breath.

"I'm sorry." I say and try to approach him.

He shuffles away. "No!"

Noah and Paddy run in at that moment.

They look between us trying to make sense of the situation. They see the alarm in Stephen's expression as he lies crouched on the floor, gingerly touching his neck. They see my intimidating stance and stare and the strain between us.

"Stephen?" Noah says, touching his shoulder.

"What the feck happened?" Paddy looks at me. But he knows and he takes a step away from me.

"N-n-nothing." Stephen says and stands up gingerly. He addresses Noah. "Let's go home. I'm not hungry anymore."

"Brendan hurt you?" Noah asks, glaring at me. He paces up to me and shoves me so that I fall backwards and glide across the floor from the strength of his push. He then marches up to me ready for action.

Fuck. He is a black belt at _Jujutsu_.

"No, Noah!" Stephen shouts.

"Did you hurt him?" Noah sneers menacingly down at me.

I look up at him. _Yes. I did. He told me he didn't love me. He told me you were going to fuck tonight. _

_He hurt me. _

"What's it to ye, Bruce Lee?" I pounce to my feet.

His fist connects with my gut winding me. I stumble and then compose myself and throw a punch that connects with his ribs. And so on and so forth until we are bruised and battered and we hug to avoid further injury.

He speaks to me, short of breath, "I knew it! I was right. You have been beating up on Stephen, haven't you? You asshole."

"Noah, please stop!" Stephen pleads pulling his boyfriend back and Noah whips round to face him.

"No! Have I got it wrong?" Noah asks him. "Because I am pretty smart, you know. I can tell that he has a hold on you, Ste. He was more than just a boss, wasn't he? You were friends but then he found out about you. He found out you were gay and it all changed."

"Wait." Paddy points between Stephen and Noah. "You guys are gay? Together?"

Noah stares at him for a second like he is a moron and then focuses on Stephen again.

"He is all kinds of weird around you. And Doug told me that he has been keeping tabs on us. Who fucking does that? And he nearly punched me at _Relish_ for chatting you up. He called me a 'fucking queer' at _SUBAR_ today and beat me up, for Christ's sake!"

"You caused Noah's split lip?" Paddy asks me. I nod my head almost imperceptibly. He stares back at me, motionless.

Noah continues to talk to Stephen. "And I know he must have made the working environment unbearable. That's why you quit. I'm right, aren't I?"

"No, Noah." Stephen says.

"Are you saying that he never raised a finger to you? Like right now. Nothing happened?" Noah says challengingly.

Stephen stays quiet.

"He is a fucking queer-basher, Ste. Why can't you see it?"

Stephen takes his hand and looks at me with tears in his eyes. "You have to trust me, Noah. He isn't. He is just a confused man with anger problems. And he is not worth it. He is in my past. I was sucked in once. I looked up to him but we are done now."

He pulls Noah to him and they kiss softly. Noah breaks into a small smile. "Okay."

"Paddy, we are going. Sorry for all this." Stephen says pointing in my general direction. He reaches into his pocket and throws a fifty pound note that he cannot afford to part with at me.

"That is for our half of the meal."

He then takes Noah's hand in his, "Let's go."

-0-0-

"What was that about, Bren?" Paddy asks me as I dust myself off.

I don't want to talk about it. I grab Stephen's money and put it in my pocket. It is going to make its way back to him somehow.

"Mate, have you been beating that kid up?"

"He is not a kid." I say and gingerly clutch my chest. Fuck me, it hurts.

"Whatever. He is gay, though, isn't he?" He says.

My silence is a 'yes'.

Paddy says slowly. "I thought ye had changed, Bren, but ye haven't. Still playing that sport."

I don't reply. Instead Paddy slowly wraps one of my arms over his shoulder while encasing my waist to help support me.

"But then I guess someone close to me once said, wisely I might add, that a life of crime, like herpes, is never behind you."

"Which is why I was at the station bailing yer sorry ass out for car theft this morning." I say as we make our way slowly out of the restroom and he pats my side making me flinch.

"I appreciate it." He whispers. "Ye know that, yeah?"

"Just get me home." I say.

"Okay." His develops a sly smile. "Stephen seems like a nice guy."

I stop him and glare at him warningly. "No."

I think of Stephen with Noah and the kiss they shared just now.

Patrick smiles. "I'm just saying."

-0-0-

Later, in the middle of the night I get up. I have not been able to sleep properly. I ache too much both physically and mentally. I look over at Paddy. He is snoring softly on the mattress at the foot of my bed. I am careful not to wake him when I step over him, walk out of the room and down the stairs.

I turn on the laptop and go online.

There are two searches.

**Translation- Italian to English**

_Italian_- Sei cosi carino.

_English_- You are so cute.

**Tin Man**

Aka. _Tin Woodman_ or _Tin Woodsman_. A character in the fictional Land of _Oz_ created by American author L.F. Baum. The Tin Man is befriended by Dorothy Gale and follows her along with the Scarecrow and the Cowardly Lion to the Emerald city to get a heart from the Wizard of _Oz_. The Wizard, in the end, is a 'humbug' and is only able to provide a placebo 'heart' to the Tin Man. The irony is that all along he was the most tender and emotional companion to Dorothy.

I stare at the screen. Stephen thinks I am the Tin Man.

Heartless.

I touch my chest where he kissed it at the restaurant. I swear I can't feel a heartbeat there. I take a shaky breath out as I feel moisture on my cheeks. I roughly wipe them dry.

Stephen must be right.

I must be the Tin Man.


	13. Chapter 13

**** WARNING ** sexually explicit scenes. **

**; )**

We walk into Noah's flat. The lights are off and it is completely quiet.

"Ethan? Doug?" Noah calls out as he roams around turning lights on.

I look around. It is obvious no one is home and a part of me is nervous about that. There is no distraction. No excuses. It is just Noah and me and that blue duvet cover of his.

He walks up to me with a small smile. "Looks like it is just you and me."

"Yeah." I croak wrapping my jacket around me tighter. "That never happens."

"No. I guess not." He says as he strips out of his coat, throws it carelessly on the floor (I really can't get used to his mess) and draws to a stop in front of me. He then runs his palms up and down my arms slowly.

"It's like a conspiracy." I say.

"Yeah." He whispers as his eyes linger on my lips. "A good one."

I shudder under his intense gaze. His expression is overwhelming.

"Did you tell them to stay away tonight?" I ask.

"Maybe." He tells me. He has the decency to look a little embarrassed by this admission. "I thought we could make a night of it."

I know what he means by this. He has one thing on his mind.

Sex.

And I get it. I have kept him waiting for a month. Who does that now-a-days? I have been ignoring, or turning down or brushing aside his advances.

But I am tired now, defeated.

I am tired of waiting and hoping; waiting for Brendan to say words he will never say to me and hoping he will be proud of being with me one day. I am tired of thinking about him; my _heart_ is constantly pining for him, my _mind_ is consumed by thoughts of him and my _body_ craves him. They refuse to get over him. They are exhausting me.

I am angry with myself because at the restaurant all three conspired against me. Bren secretly kept looking at me during the first course and a charge run through the centre of my being. Yeah. He still has my heart, body and soul.

I still love him.

Did you doubt that for a second? If you did then you believe in words too much and in what's behind them too little. What I said in the restrooms of _Realto_ was bullshit. I haven't stopped loving him. I just wanted to get a reaction out of him when I told him that.

And I did but not the one I had hoped for. I touch my neck. It doesn't hurt but I still feel a residual ache.

'_Say you love me.'_

You had to see him when he said that. It took my breath away more than his hand around my throat did. For a second I believed with all my heart that he has been suffering like I have been and wanted to be with me too.

But he didn't tell me. Instead he attacked me like he always does when words fail him.

So as I said I am tired... and I am moving on.

I tentatively put my open palm against Noah. "Tonight was interesting."

"It's like he is everywhere." He replies in exasperation. "That Brendan bloke."

I don't want to talk about him.

"He isn't here." I say quietly, stepping closer to him. I am making a move. Subtle, I know.

He raises an eyebrow, "No. No. He isn't."

"Thank you for taking me out. I always wanted to try _Realto_."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah." I whisper and think back to a conversation like a hundred others with Brendan.

-0-

'Come on, Bren. No one will even see us. No one we know leaves Hollyoaks anyway!' I whine as I wrap an arm lazily around him, snuggling up in his bed. Not that I call it 'snuggling' to his face. Brendan would kick me out of his flat stark bullock naked if I did.

'What's the point?' He mutters as he runs the back of his fingers down my back. He turns to look at me point blank.

'To get some nice food and hang out.' I say as I am rolled onto my back by his strong hands. He then pushes my thighs apart with his powerful legs so that he can settle between them.

'What's the point?' He mutters again as he delves for my neck while caressing his hands over my sides and down my behind. He gives a bum cheek a squeeze, making me push back into his palm. Then he grips my thighs, encouraging them to drape around his waist, with my feet digging into his back.

'How about round two?' He whispers into my ear.

He thrusts leisurely against my hip, reminding me of what his cock can do. I don't need a reminder. I am still reeling from the incredible fuck we just had. This is a blatant attempt on his part to change the subject so I know I will annoy him when I say,

'One of the punters at the club mentioned it. It's called _Realto_, right, and it is a small family run Italian place. The food is supposed to be amazing,' I whisper and pull him to me for a kiss that I hope is persuasive. From his horny look when I push him away to catch my breath, I know I have him where I want him. I rub my heels up and down his buttocks and lower back inviting him in closer to me; sweetening the deal.

Brendan stares down at me with pupils blown wide with lust. 'Sounds an awful lot like a date, Stephen.'

I gasp then, not because of his words but because he does this thing, right. This distracting thing where he holds my gaze but his hands, um, well they go further south. They, you know, tease me. I don't need to spell it out for you, do I?

'Consider it grabbing a meal with a mate.' I sigh as I relax under him. I curl a hand around his waist anticipating what is to come as he fingers my, you know. Don't make me say it.

He laughs at that. 'Roll over.'

He moves back enough for me to shuffle around, settle onto my stomach and lift my ass up to him. Yeah, I am that easy when it comes to him.

'You do this with your mates, Stephen?' He gently caresses down my back before settling a hand on one of my bum cheeks. He forcefully pushes my legs apart and pulls my hips closer to him exposing me more. Gentle/rough. It turns me on when he manhandles me.

'On your knees.'

'Okay.' I bring my knees up closer to my chest while he reaches for the lube and squirts some onto his fingers.

I whisper, 'You don't do this with your mates? You are missing out.'

He is quiet for a second until he sees my shoulders shaking from suppressed laughter. 'Fecking bastard!'

And in no time he gets me ready, puts a condom on, and we are good to go.

He grips my hips firmly and lines up.

'Wait!' I restrain him with a hand on his stomach. I crane my head round to look at him. 'What about _Realto_?'

He slaps my hand away and slowly penetrates me, pushing in until his hips are flush with me, filling me completely and making me forget what I was talking about. My rumbling groan of pleasure matches his hitched gasp. Fuck! I can't ever get over that first push in. I become putty in his hands.

Then he drapes himself over me and wraps his arms around me, his chest flush with my back. He whispers into my ear.

'What's the point, Stephen?'

-0-

I look at Noah. "Do you mind if I stay over?"

He looks at me. "Actually. I am kind of tired and I have an early start tomorrow."

"Oh."

He laughs at my taken aback expression. "I'm kidding! I have been waiting for you to ask me that from the first date we had. I was starting to feel that this was all one sided. 'Course you can stay."

I smile at his enthusiasm.

"Wait? Are we going to do some more mind-blowing napping or are we, you know?" He says, raising an eyebrow with a cheeky smile. "It's just that I need a heads up before we hit the sheets if it is, you know, because I would need to put on some Barry White, break out the champers, slip into some _Ginch Gonch_ boxer briefs, slap on some cologne-"

I interrupt his rant with a kiss.

Yeah. I know you are all disappointed with me. I know you want me to be Brendan's alone but if you were in my shoes what would you do? Continue to wait for the impossible or actually try and live. I have chosen to live.

So when Noah tugs me towards his bedroom I don't stop him. He takes his clothes off and then helps me out of mine.

He has my lips, my chest, my stomach. He has my legs. I lie back and he lies over me looking at me like he can't believe we are going to do this. He thinks I am going to bolt. But I don't. I stay put. That doesn't mean I stop thinking about Bren. When Noah encourages my legs around his waist I remember Brendan doing the same to me. I hesitantly wrap them there but I can't relax the way I do with Bren. I lean up for a kiss hoping that will loosen me up.

It doesn't.

"God, you are so hot, Ste!" Noah sighs. He places small tickly kisses all over my face and then down to my neck.

No! No way! I push him away. Not my neck!

"What the-" Noah says.

I am surprised by my own reaction. It is just that something in me wants that place to be about Bren and me only. All his intimate and most secret thoughts come out when he is nestled in the crook of my neck. It is as though he feels protected from the world there.

'_I am a bad man, Stephen. You are better off without me.'_

'_You are so hot! I could be in you forever.'_

'_I did a very bad thing.'_

'_I want you, Stephen.'_

"What the hell was that?" Noah asks me.

"Tickles." I say as I scratch me neck. It is a white lie.

Maybe we should just forget the foreplay and get down to the business end of things.

I sit up. "Where is your, you know, stuff?" I say and blush.

"My what?" Noah says and then he gets it. "Oh! Oh Stuff! Yeah. Um-"

He opens his bedside table and chucks some condoms and lube on the bed. "There."

He gives me a look that is a little apprehensive, "But I thought we could fool around a little first."

I pick up a condom in its pack then run it down his body from his collar bone down his body until it reaches the soft hairs above his dick. "Yeah, we could."

He swallows.

"Or." I wrap my other hand around his rigid dick and gasp. Shitting hell! While Bren is in the big leagues when it comes to size of you know what, Noah's looks like it could do some actual damage. He is going to have to take it slow. "We have waited a long time, right?"

"Yeah, we have." His voice comes out high pitched so he coughs and repeats, "Yeah, we have."

I take the condom out of its wrapper and roll it onto Noah.

I am doing the right thing, aren't I? I am moving on. This is good.

I then take the lube and slick my hand with it before slowly pumping him with my fist. I do it the way I know Brendan likes it. I keep my eyes on Noah's face and see his expression turn slack with passion and then he says,

"Easy, Ste! I am going to blow if you keep going like that!"

And I short circuit ...

-0-

"Easy, Stephen or I am going to blow!"

Brendan pushes my lubed hand off his dick and I give him a smug smile. "Was I doing it right?"

"Eejit! You know you were." He says brusquely and throws me back onto my own bed. I try not to flinch from the bruise on my side.

I try to sit up but he pushes me back again. "Stay down and stay still."

I go limp, legs and hands akimbo, laying on my back and stare up at him.

"Close your eyes." He whispers and I obey without question. "I promise I won't hurt you."

I hold my breath at that. He can't convince me of that. That is exactly why I was worried about going back to work. That is why I have been away from _Chez Chez_ for over a week. He fucking cracked two of my ribs for trying to kiss him.

And yet he is in my house now, in my bed; and he is doing things to me that no other man has ever done to me.

And I am letting him. I must be mad. He is dangerous.

He kisses me gently and then traces a path to my neck. Fucking hell. My neck and his lips.

He makes me forget that I should fear him.

Instead I want to scream with need but I don't want to come over like an idiot. "I have been watching you for some time, Stephen. Haven't you noticed?" He whispers into that hollow. His confessional.

Really? I hadn't noticed.

I open my mouth to reply but then his lips sample my chest; my nipples. He sucks and licks and nips at one and then the other. My back arches off the bed so that I can get closer to him.

"Huh!" I moan.

"Did I tell you, you could come off the bed."

I fall back into it reluctantly.

"Good boy."

I can't believe I am responding to his commands. I am embarrassed and turned on at the same time.

I feel wet heat trail down my torso, over my bruise and my still mending bones. He kisses me tenderly just once right in the centre where the discolouration is at its worst and it feels like a wordless apology.

He licks his way down my stomach and that is when I get self-conscious. I am skinny and not in a good way. I am more like I-had-a-growth-spurt-and-my-calorie-intake-couldn't-keep-up-so-now-I-look-like-bambi.

"You are so hot!" Bren says.

He is lying. I'm not. And I am about to tell him but I don't because my balls are in his hands, gently cupped and I know without looking that my dick is standing to attention, oozing precum. I blush. He hasn't even touched me there yet and I am a horny mess.

"Looky here." He whispers. "Little Stephen isn't so little."

And that is when he takes me into his mouth for the first time. Fuck me. It is unlike anything I have ever experienced in my life. Amy was alright at it but Rae was rubbish. Bren is out of this world. Shit. Just like that. And I groan loudly and I go with his movements. Up and down, in and out. I crack an eye open to take a look then I open the other one fascinated by what I see.

Brendan fucking Brady is giving me head! I thrust up into him. He is warm and wet, creating an airtight seal around me. I throw my head back and clutch at the sheets on the bed in tight fists to my side.

"Brendan! Fuck!"

He crawls up to me, stares into my dazed eyes and wipes excess spit off his lips. "You can't follow one simple order. I said stay still!"

I look down and realise that my hips are off the bed. Oh. Oops.

I settle back down but look defiantly at him as I reach a hand down to encircle his cock. And he doesn't get pissed off so I start to stroke him. He mirrors my actions with my dick until I groan with need and at times I forget to give him the attention that he gives me because what he is doing feels so good. When I swipe a finger over the head of his cock he shudders.

"Fuck me, ye are a quick study." He hisses.

"I've been jerking off for years." I grin.

"Smart ass."

He pulls away from me. "Fine. So let's try something new for ye."

I raise a sceptical brow. "Like what?"

"The key is to go with the flow, Stephen."

And of course I clam up. I am not a fool. I know what gay blokes sometimes get up to in bed; things go up where they shouldn't. I have heard. I look at Brendan's hard cock. Guys, I can tell you one thing, nothing _that_ big is going in me. Taking a massive dump feels like being ripped apart so _that_ must fucking kill!

Bren laughs at my face and soothingly caresses me. "Jesus, Stephen, relax!"

"I am not doing that!" I say in panic, pulling away from him.

"That what?" He says. He is amused. I want to slap that grin off his face.

"You know." I say, looking pointedly at his erect cock. "My ass. No." I make a point of sitting straight. You could call it guarding, I suppose.

"Fine." He says and the corner of his mouth twitches. "I wasn't going to anyway."

"You weren't?"

"I was." He smiles.

I swallow.

He is like a predator when he crawls to me on the bed in all his naked glory. He stops and leans closer so that our lips are millimetres away,

"Giss-a-kiss." He purrs.

I study his lips. They are hard to resist and what is the harm in a small kiss? Nothing. I will just the draw the line at shenanigans involving my, you know, arse. That is definitely not going to happen. So I press my lips against him and my mouth parts under his insistence and I moan when he curls his tongue with mine. I know Bren likes his food and it is as if I am the best meal he has ever had with the way he consumes me. I let my eyes fall shut and I throw my arms around him.

Yes.

I love kissing him and the feel his hands over me. I sigh as he explores every inch of me.

"Ye like that?" He asks into my ear as he cups my bum in the palms of his hands.

"Yeah." I say and then pause. Hang on. How did his hands there?

I orientate myself. I am on my back looking up at him. How did he do that? Flip me onto my back again without me realising.

"Bren, gerroff!" I say weakly as he clutches at my behind.

He smiles down at me. "But ye said ye like it."

He isn't wrong. "No." I say feebly.

Where are his hands going? His fingers crawl in closer to that place where nothing will ever go in. Ever.

"Brendan. No."

"What?" He says innocently but stops his actions. "I won't do anything to you that you don't want me to, Stephen."

I look up at him, untrusting.

"Honestly." He whispers and swipes his tongue against my lips.

"Okay." I am going to regret this.

Actually, why am I telling you all this? You don't want to know about my first time, do you? And in some ways I don't know if I want to tell you. It is kind of private, you know?

I guess I can tell you that Brendan was right, though. He didn't do anything that I didn't want him to do because everything we did felt so good... eventually. We went all the way after some coaxing and negotiating and patience and encouragement and kisses and lube...

Lots of lube. Lots and lots of it.

And I have a confession to make. It was then, when Brendan was deep in me for the first time making me experience sex as I have never experienced it before, making me feel out of this world, that I realised something.

I was in love with Brendan Brady.

-0-

I am in love with Brendan Brady.

"Stephen?" Noah looks at me with concern as I stare blankly at him with my hand still on him.

I take my hand away as if scorched. "Uh. Sorry Noah but I can't do this."

"Do what?"

I point between our two naked bodies. "This. I thought I could but I can't. I can't get him out of my head."

I stand up and tug on my boxer briefs.

"Who are you talking about?" Noah asks sitting up to face me the picture of confusion. He flings a corner of his duvet over his lap.

I hesitate. Maybe I shouldn't tell Noah but I feel like I owe him an explanation for messing him about for so long. I hope he will understand.

"Um, remember the guy I told you about? The one I was kind of seeing?" I start.

"The fucked up situation you told me about in the _SUBAR_ when we first met?" Noah says slowly.

I nod.

"The closeted, taken, commitment-phobe? Is that what this is about?"

I nod again.

I take a deep breath in and then a shaky one out.

"It's Brendan."

And there is a heavy silence that descends between us.

"Not-" Noah frowns at me. "Not Brady, Brendan Brady."

I put my shirt on. I can't look at him. I can tell from his voice alone that he is upset and confused.

His voice is small. "Fuck."


	14. Chapter 14

Stephen and Noah are in bed. Naked. Fooling around.

"Yeah that's it Ste. Fuck!" Noah gasps as Stephen bobs his mouth up and down his dick rapidly; groaning softly as he repeatedly fills himself with it.

"Is that how you did it for Brendan?"

Stephen lifts his sweet pink and slightly swollen wet lips off Noah and smiles seductively. "No. With you it means more. So much more."

He moves up to lie flush on Noah and grins down at him. "Honestly, his touch made my skin crawl. All those bad things he has done with those hands. I couldn't stop thinking about it every time he laid a finger on me."

Noah grins and pulls him into a kiss that is lustful and erotic and everything a kiss between two people in love should be.

Stephen pulls away, gasping for breath before leaning down to Noah's ear and whispering. "I want to you to make love to me."

"Yeah?"

Hands are exploring everywhere. Tongues share spit. Cocks are grabbed urgently.

"Yeah. Make me forget him." Stephen sighs as Noah effortlessly lifts him up and gently repositions him on his back. "Fuck me so hard that I forget Brendan Brady, Noah!"

-0-0-

I wake up with a start, panting heavily and lined with sweat. I mop my brow.

A dream. It was a dream!

Thank goodness.

But my relief is short-lived. After Stephen's words yesterday, there is every chance that that dream is a reality as you read this. Only of course, Noah doesn't know about Stephen and me. Stephen had assured me of that when he found out Dougie had been following them for me.

I move to get up. Bad move. My body kills. Fucking Noah. I hold my side as I swing my legs over the side of the bed. Paddy is still fast asleep on the mattress on the floor. The guy can snore. I stand up and nudge him with my foot.

"Paddy. Wake up."

"Hum." He groans softly and then rolls away from my prodding. His breathing evens out again. Looking at him when he sleeps brings back memories. Good ones. Distant ones. I look at his face and spot the faint scar on the right side of his hairline.

Seeing it makes me want to turn back time. And it makes me feel opposing emotions. It wakes up the part of me that wants Stephen near me; to watch over him and protect him. But it also reinforces the part of me that wants to push him as far from me as possible because being near me can only lead to harm.

Whatever. Fuck it. Enough emotional bullshit. I clear my throat and smooth my 'tache. I decide to shower and then wake Patrick up. On my way to the bathroom, I pass Chez's bedroom. It is quiet. She must have decided to stay over at Warren's last night. Good. I could do without having to explain Paddy's presence yet.

By the time I am fresh and clean and walk back into my room, the blow up mattress on the floor is empty with crumpled sheets thrown back. I get changed. Briefs. Crucifix. Jeans. Plain white T. Socks. Black hoodie. Sneakers. Watch. Wallet. Done.

As I gingerly walk downstairs I smell coffee. I smile when I hear the low hum of a tune accompanied by the shuffle of bare feet over kitchen tiles. The toaster pops up when my feet touch the bottom of the stairs.

Paddy turns to face me with a smile before moving his attention to breakfast again.

"Perfect timing." He piles the four pieces of golden bread on a plate and starts buttering. "Toast's ready."

I take in his serene expression. He is in crumpled boxers and tee-shirt.

"Ye snore." I mutter. I try not to wince when taking a seat on a bar stool.

"Ye know I do." He places a steaming mug of black coffee in front of me and looks at me knowingly. "Now shut up and drink yer coffee. I made it how ye like."

"Maybe I don't take it the same way any more."

"Please." He mutters. He sits next to me and places the toast between us. I stare at him. Since when has he felt he could talk to me like that?

He takes a sip from his own mug and looks at me expectantly. Little fecker. There is something about him, that stubbornness mixed with vulnerability but with an edge of mischief, that reminds me of...

I shake my head and take a sip of my coffee. Shit! It burns the crap out of my tongue so I spit it back into the mug.

Paddy laughs. "Too hot, big man? Want me to blow on it for ye?" He grins more broadly from behind his mug and raises an eyebrow.

He drags out the word 'blow'.

Fecker.

"Oh no. It's not the heat. It's just that it tastes like shit." I fire back.

"I make the best coffee." He says simply. He is right. He makes a good brew.

We eat and drink in silence for a while and it feels familiar and OK. I can tolerate this.

"So are you going to tell me what yesterday night was all about?"

He is talking about the male toilets of _Realto_. It is none of his business so I answer with a question of my own,

"So are you going to tell me why the police found you trying to steal that top of the range merc yesterday?"

"Isn't that the wrong question?" Paddy says. "Aren't you wondering why I am in here to see you after nine years of no communication?"

"You will tell me when you are ready." I drawl and drink some more coffee. Of course I am playing it cool. I never ever expected to see Patrick again.

"The car was an eejit move, Bren, I know that. I wanted you to be impressed when I showed up. I wanted you to see how well the last few years have gone for me." He looks at me through hooded brows. "It's over though, mostly. Me, doing underhand things. I am working with Joe now."

"Paddy, Paddy, Paddy, I've said it once. I've said it a thousand times. A life of crime-"

"-Is like herpes... you're still using that one?"

I shrug. "If it ain't broke why change it."

"I've changed." He looks seriously at me and tracks his eyes over me. "I thought maybe you had too."

The weight of his words punches me in the heart.

"Tell me what yesterday was all about, Brendan?" He insists quietly.

I look down. "No." I whisper into my mug.

"Did you cause Noah's split lip?"

"Yes." I look at Paddy. "He is a waste of space; an oxygen bandit."

"You don't like him." He nods slightly. "But is he right? Have you been beating that blond kid up?"

"His name is Stephen." I say. "And his hair is like a light brown."

Why did I say that? Whatever. It is an obvious observation.

Paddy smirks at me. "You get kinda intense when it comes to him, don't ye?"

I look at him lazily. "Did you want an answer or was that rhetorical?"

"Do you beat him up, Bren?"

"No. I don't." I whisper.

"But you did?"

I down the rest of my coffee, stand up and throw the coffee mug into the sink noisily.

"Okay, okay!" Patrick says urgently. "Ye don't want to talk about it. That's cool. We don't have to. Look, I came to Hollyoaks to get closure and forget that past so if this aggravates you, we'll cross it off the conversation list."

He hazards a small smile.

I stare at him and then curl one side of my mouth up. "Why don't you get showered and then we'll head out."

"Okay." Paddy starts making his way upstairs.

"By the way, Patrick-" I say.

He looks back at me. "Yep."

"Stay away from Stephen or I will pluck the nails off your fingers one by one."

He crosses his heart. "I will be as good as gold."

-0-0-

I take Paddy to _Chez Chez_. I may as well let Cheryl know sooner rather than later that we have a house guest.

"Hey sis."

"Morning Bren." Chez says with a smile that goes from genuine to forced in a microsecond once she claps eyes on Patrick behind me. Her cheeks must hurt from all the effort.

Patrick gives her a smile that tells me that he knows she is uncomfortable with his presence.

"Hi Cheryl." He says. "Long time no see."

"Yeah." She says. She can't keep the venom out of her voice. "Thought we had seen the last of you."

"And yet here I am." Paddy says.

She cocks her head to the side and tries to communicate her confusion to me with her eyes. I pretend I don't notice.

"Yeah." I say. I speak to Paddy. "Look mate, why don't ye grab a coffee at the bar."

Patrick glances between my sister and me sceptically but after one look from me he nods and winks at Chez. "Good seeing you again."

He brushes past me and I lead Cheryl to the office. Once the door is closed, she whips round to face me angrily. "What the hell is he doing here, Bren?"

"Visiting." I say.

"Visiting?" She looks at me as if I am mad and then starts pacing. "I thought you were through with that low life."

I smart at her words. I keep my voice low. "He isn't a low life."

"Ye 'ave used far worse words than that to describe him." She whispers back. "Do I need to remind ye?"

I get into her face. "Just treat him nicely, sis."

Her eyes widen in alarm. "Why? What's changed? Have you forgotten what you told me about him?"

I interrupt her. "I know what I said."

How I can forget that night in Dublin when I was twenty-one years old.

-0-

I pant as I barrel into our house. It is late but I know that Chez is home alone. My dad and stepmum are away on holiday.

I feel like my heart is going to come out of my chest it is beating so hard. My palms are sweating. I can barely catch my breath. Tears are streaming down my face. Yeah. You heard me correctly. Tears. But they are silent. I don't even notice them. My body is processing what has happened quicker than my mind.

I accidentally stumble into the coffee table as I get to the house phone and pick up the receiver.

"What the hell, Bren? It's three am!" My fifteen-year old sister comes into the living room rubbing her eyes tiredly. Her look of fatigue and annoyance changes into one of panic and concern when she sees me. Chez has never seen me cry.

"Brendan?" She shuffles up to me in her bunny slippers and wipes my cheeks shakily. She looks down at my hands. "Your phone."

My broken mobile is in my bloodied hand. Her voice becomes shaky. "That's blood."

"It's not mine." I can barely get my words out. I am staining the white phone receiver with congealed blood. Oh God!

I dial a number.

"Who are ye calling? Who's blood is it?" She says walking up to me cautiously.

I do not reply instead I speak into the phone.

"Yes. Ambulance please. Quickly."

And then I wait. My hands are shaking. I wipe the blood off on my clothes and turn around to Cheryl.

_What is the emergency, son?_

"I need someone to get over to Dame Lane, in the city centre, straight away please, near the Trinity Street auto bus stop." I sniff back a tear. "I-, I think someone is really hurt. Please get there quickly. Please."

I am begging.

_Okay. Now try to calm down. What is your name?_

I stare at the phone and panic. I slam the phone down. Chez grips me firmly.

"Were you attacked?" She whispers as she tries to make sense of what is going on.

I shake my head.

"Do I need to be worried?"

"No. No." I say.

I can't process what is going on quickly enough but instinct to protect always comes through, doesn't it? So I say,

"Stay away from Patrick."

Chez frowns. "But he's your best friend."

"Not anymore." I whisper. "He's dangerous. He's a fucking psycho."

"Why? What did he do?"

I walk to the sink in the kitchen and wash my hands watching the blood run from off me and down the drain.

"I'm going to tell mum and dad."

"Don't. You could get into trouble."

"Is he going to come after you? Are you in danger?"

"I don't think so." I say. "No."

"But-"

"Go back to sleep, Chez." I wipe up and then push her towards her bedroom.

-0-0-

"Why is he finally okay to hang around with?" Cheryl asks.

"He just is. Don't give him grief." I tell her.

"Fine!" She raises her hands in defeat. "But if he does something remotely dodgy I am calling the police."

"Don't worry they are one step ahead of you."

"You what?"

"I bailed him out of jail yesterday for trying to steal a car. He is waiting for a date for his court hearing."

Cheryl's eyes widen in shock. "Jesus Bren, I don't want him anywhere near us."

I give her a quick affectionate kiss on her forehead. "Soz, sis, but I gave the men in blue our address as his residence while he is here in Hollyoaks."

I give her my most winning grin and then walk out of the office.

I can feel her anger radiating against my back.

"Brendan!"

-0-0-

"Why was Chez looking at me like she wanted to kill me?" Paddy asks as we walk towards the _SUBAR_.

"She wasn't." I lie.

"She was." He says. "She hates me."

"She just remembers your criminal activity." I say drily. "Sticky Fingers."

"I stole her wallet once and I gave it right back." He defends himself sheepishly.

"Like a true gentleman."

"I'm not the one that was known as 'the ghost'." He smiles.

"Yeah, well my days of pick pocketing are over." I nudge him gently.

"Really?"

"Yeah." I say. "Mate, what's the time?"

He looks at his left wrist and his eyes widen and his smile gets broader. It is bare. He looks at me. "You bastard!"

I wink at him as I give him back his watch. "Guess I still have the touch!"

"I've got to watch myself around you, Bren." He says grinning.

We get to the _SUBAR_ and see the crowd of men inside that are being bossed around by my 'girlfriend'.

I can't see Stephen anywhere. Not that I am surprised or looking out for him specifically. Just checking to see that he is doing what he said he was going to do; stay the hell away from me.

I lead the way in but Paddy stops me at the threshold.

"Wait. What the hell are we doing here? What's with the half naked blokes?" Paddy whispers.

I take in his suddenly withdrawn expression. "It's preparation for a charity male fashion show and I'm about to introduce you to my girlfriend. A word to the wise, she will ask you to strip before she says 'hello'."

"Come again? I didn't know you had a-"

Mitzeee runs to me and throws herself around me. "Oh Brendan! Thank God you are here. We have had to rearrange things since Noah and Ste bailed out. Everything is a mess. There is so much to do and nothing is going right! I work with morons! And now I am hyperventilating." She fans herself with a hand. "I think I am going to faint!"

She becomes toneless in my arms in an overdramatic moment.

I look at a shocked Paddy. "Paddy, this is my girlfriend. Mitzeee, Patrick is a childhood friend."

She opens an eye and darts it over Paddy quickly, no doubt getting his dimensions. She raises an interested eyebrow. My friend is clearly more effective than sniffing salts because, in an instant, Mitzeee is back on her own two feet with a hand outstretched to him, palm down.

"Well, hello, hot stuff! My name is Mitzeee with three e's. Have you ever modelled before?"

-0-0-

Mitzeee is tiring me out. Paddy is confusing me with his presence. I have tried more outfits in one sitting than I have ever owned in my life.

I am sick of this. I need to get out of here. I need to catch my breath because it feels as though I am suffocating. I keep getting unshakable images that weigh me down and make me feel like I can't breathe. They go round and round in my head, fucking with me. And they are about him. Always.

Stephen.

It is ridiculous. It has been a month. This unrelenting cloud that hangs over me has got to move on.

Just like Stephen has,

"_Trust me, Noah, he is just a confused man with anger problems. And he is just not worth it. He is in my past. I was sucked in once. I looked up to him but we are done now."_

I cringe as I recall that soft kiss that they shared right in front of me that nearly broke my resolve to not beat the shit out of the personal trainer.

And then there was Noah's smug small smile. _"Okay."_

I feel my fists ball up. And the pain in my centre, the one that has been there for a month, intensifies.

"_I am staying over at Noah's tonight, Brendan. Do you understand? And I'm going to let him fuck me until I can't think straight." _

Stephen had looked so livid_. _

"_Because you don't care one way or the other, do you?"_

I could tell in the depths of those angry eyes that he was hurt and begging me to do that thing they do in the movies; that thing where the music swells and chests collide and ardent kisses are shared and words of love are exchanged. That thing that I didn't do.

Wouldn't, couldn't and shouldn't do.

So he walked away from me as he has done consistently for a month with a resolve he has never been able to keep before. And he went to that other man.

"Earth calling Brendan." Paddy ribs me.

I look at him and take in my surroundings at the _SUBAR_.

"What?"

"What do you make of these bad boys?" He asks and turns his back to me. He is wearing nothing but a snug pair of black boxer briefs. Paddy has kept in shape that much is amply clear. He speaks to me over his shoulder. "Your missus is persuasive. All I can say is that the room had better be warm on show day!"

Mitzeee smiles at him and then looks at me in annoyance. "Babe, why aren't you changed yet?"

"Because I told you already that I am not doing the underwear section of the catwalk unless someone hits me across the head unconscious."

"But-"

I lift a hand. "I have to go to the club. We are expecting a delivery anytime." I say.

I'm done with this bullshit for a day.

"But-" Mitzeee repeats.

I ignore her. "You cool to hang out here?" I ask Patrick.

He nods but looks strangely at me.

"Good."

I walk out of the bar dressed in the show's 'casual gear' and head back home.

Yeah. I think I could do with getting acquainted to a bottle of Jameson right about now. Yeah. I know it isn't noon yet. So what?

-0-0-

Fantastic. An empty flat. A full bottle of Irish whiskey. A Brendan in need of anaesthetising. Let the inebriation begin.

I grab a glass and twist the top of the bottle. It is while I am about to take the first swig of many that I hear the knock on the front door.

Okay. No problem. I'll get rid of the interruption then I'll get back to drinking myself into a stupor.

I briskly and impatiently throw the door open and my jaw literally drops.

I feel like I should rub my eyes like some cliché to make sure that they aren't deceiving me.

Stephen.

He looks at me with an expression that is a little lost. But mostly he gives me that look that makes my breathing feel okay again and takes away the ache in my bones and makes me want to smile like I mean it and makes me feel like the world is a pretty decent place.

"I couldn't..." He starts and then shuts his mouth again, fiddling with the cuffs of his hoodie which are drawn over his hands.

I stare at those lips as he darts a tongue out to wet them.

I step up to him. If this is a dream, then I am taking full advantage.

Stephen is here with me.

I hook my finger into his collar and pull him to me. If this is a mirage then it is solid and it does not vanish.

He hitches a breath.

"You're going to stay?" I ask quietly. I feel like if I were to speak any louder I might jinx the situation.

He nods. "Yeah..." He kicks the door shut behind him closing us away from the world. "Even if it is like this. Private. Just you and me."

He curls both hands behind my neck and pulls me to him.

"I'll take it." He whispers up to me.

And I know I should say 'no'. I should tell him something heartless, something the Tin Man would be proud of. Or I should show him my fists and remind him of the pain I can cause him.

But I am too weak. I want him too much. I care about him.

I lo-

He presses his lips to mine and finally the million thoughts that have been stampeding nonstop through my head cease.

I wrap him in my arms.

Mine.

Stephen Hay.

Better than the best Irish whiskey out there.


	15. Chapter 15

I turn to Noah. He is sitting on his bed in confusion.

"I am sorry, Noah." I whisper and quickly finish dressing up. "That I wasn't honest sooner."

"Where are you going?" He asks, standing up but covering his modesty with his duvet.

"Home. I need to get my head straight."

"Are you going back to him? Brendan?"

"No." I say quickly. I have no intention to.

But Noah must see something contradictory in my eyes because he says,

"Shit! You love him, don't you?" His voice is incredulous. "He is a self-loathing freak, Ste, you know that, right?"

He comes up to me.

"That's why I left." Even though it breaks my heart.

He looks down at me evenly and lets out a shaky breath.

"Have you been seeing him while we have been hanging out?"

"No."

He nods pensively. "Okay. Then I have one more question but you have to be honest."

"What?" I feel nervous at his glare.

"The violence in the restrooms at _Realto_." He says.

God, is he injured? I look him over. "Are you okay?"

"I am talking about what Paddy and I interrupted between you and Brendan."

I feel my heart thump in my chest. I don't want him to bring up what I think he is going to bring up.

"It was nothing." I squeak.

"Was he violent towards you when you were together?"

I stare at him and feel tears prickle at the corners of my eyes.

I slip into my shoes to buy myself time to compose myself and then straighten up.

"Brendan has never touched me like that." I say.

Before getting a reaction I walk out of his flat. I lied to him. Whatever. The beatings are in the past. Brendan is in the past. Why does Noah need to know the truth?

-0-0-

I walk home in a daze.

I have been kidding myself that I have moved on from Brendan. When it came to it I couldn't make that leap in my relationship with Noah.

I can't be with him in the way he wants me to be. I can't embark on a relationship that I know Amy thinks is healthier for me.

I am annoyed at myself. What is wrong with me? Seriously. What sane person says 'no' to a decent, straight down the line guy like Noah because they can't get over a shady, emotionally stunted, dangerous man like Brendan?

Not that I am going back to him.

No.

I pretty much run all the way the home in the dead of night and manage to keep it together until I get into my sanctuary. My home. Then I fall to pieces. Big time.

I stumble into my room and throw myself on my bed head down before hugging my pillow and crying into it.

It has been a long day. I am exhausted and confused. After a month of avoiding Brendan, I couldn't escape him today.

It has brought my feelings for him forward.

From the _SUBAR,_ where he confessed that he had Doug following me and Noah and he told me I looked good. And he appeared to accept my offer of friendship only to undo it all by going homophobic Neanderthal on Noah in front of everyone.

Then seeing him through his bedroom window with a handsome stranger that I later learned was Paddy and feeling unbelievably jealous. I realised I was a long way from not caring about him then.

And finally sitting right next to him in a twist of fate at _Realto,_ forcing me to confront the feelings I still had for him. Throwing them in my face because, yes, when his hand rested on my thigh and traced up to cup me I wanted nothing more. I wanted everything around us to fade away so that it was just me and him.

He was being unfair.

That is why I went to the bathroom; to work out an exit plan. To make sure I didn't succumb to my urges. But he wouldn't let me be. Minutes later he was there next to me.

_Irresistible_.

So I told him I didn't love him; that I was going to have sex with Noah. And his hand suffocated me. And his eyes were desperate, pleading.

'_Say you love me'_.

And I wanted to run away because as fucked up as it sounds all I wanted to say was,

'_Yes, Brendan. I do love you but you hurt me even though I think you love me back, don't you?' _

That is why I am here silently sobbing into a pillow, rolling around because the pain I feel is internal and external, guys.

I hate this.

"Stephen?"

I almost don't hear Amy's quiet voice of concern.

"Um hum?" I mumble into the pillow trying to rub my tears on it so that she doesn't notice them.

"Are you crying?"

I clear my throat and turn my head away from her. "I'm trying to sleep, Ames."

I hear the door close quietly and her steps approach me. I sigh in resignation when I feel the bed dip under her weight. I won't be able to fool her.

"Your date?" She asks, touching my arm lightly. "Was it shit?"

"Leave me alone." I whisper, still hiding my face from her.

"Did Noah say or do something?"

"No." I sniff a sob.

"Ste. I thought I was your bff." She says. "Talk to me."

I curl up around the pillow. She wouldn't understand.

She hates Bren.

She loves Noah.

It would be clear cut in her head.

She is quiet for some time and then I feel her lie behind me gently rubbing her hand up and down my uppermost arm.

"I am right here if you need to talk." She whispers into my ear.

She will be waiting a long time.

She says. "So wake me up when you are ready."

She is so soothing is our Ames. I can't help but close my eyes, inhale and exhale. And I feel a fraction better. I hear her breathing even out and I know she is asleep.

And despite the fact that I have so much on my mind I quickly join her on the other side.

-0-0-

"Come in, Stephen. We won't bite."

I push the heavy wooden door and tentatively walk into the very dark unfamiliar room. At the end of it is a long wood table with five people sat behind it. A panel. As I approach them slowly, I make out their faces one by one from right to left.

Pete, Amy, Macca, Mitzeee, Paddy, Rae, Warren and Noah. They look at me with equally serious expressions.

I am immediately on edge. "Why am I here?"

"Take a seat." Paddy replies.

"I'd prefer to stand." I say nervously. I look around me. It is pitch black everywhere but where they are sitting. They are spotlighted by soft upturned lighting.

"Suit yourself." Paddy says.

I swallow tensely. I recognise what the panel has in common straight away. They all know about Brendan and me. Although, I am not sure about Paddy. Why is he here? I don't really know him. I look over at Amy, my only real ally after everything that has happened but she stares right through me. I take a step back and I hear the bolts of the door behind me shift. I am locked in.

"Let me out." I growl looking at the panel's set faces.

"No." Warren says with an evil grin.

"We have some questions to ask." Mitzeee says she brings out a nail file. It glimmers in the dark before she starts scratching it on her thumb nail.

"About what?"

"About ye and Bren." Macca says softly.

"There is nothing to say." I say. I feel myself break a fear induced sweat. "We are over."

"Well that's not exactly true is it?" Rae spits out angrily. I cheated on her with him. She is entitled to be pissed off.

"Rae, Mitzeee, Macca and I have been hurt by your relationship." Noah says coldly. "But you don't care, do you?"

"That is not true." I say looking at them with remorse. "I felt terrible. I didn't want to hurt anyone and I know that I did. I am so sorry."

Mitzeee stops manicuring and stabs the nail file's sharp edge into the wooden table with force. She hisses at me. "He never had eyes for me the way he did for you."

"And he never looked at me the way he looks at you." Macca echoes.

"Is he honestly worth it?" Warren asks. "He seems like a loser to me."

"He isn't." I say.

"He is." They all say in unison. "Tell us why you love him."

I am confused by their venom but then nothing here is making sense to me so I speak truthfully. "You don't know him like I do. When we are together he makes me feel like I am the most important person in the world to him."

"He beats you up." Noah says scathingly.

"Not anymore."

"That makes it so much better." He snaps.

"And I love that he loves his sons and Cheryl more than he loves his own life." I retort. "He would die for them."

"Would he die for you?" Paddy asks with an evil smile.

I frown at his question. Is that a leading question? In fact, where is Brendan?

"Where is he?" I look round anxiously.

"Patience, patience young Stephen. All in good time." Pete says. "Keep telling us what is so great about Brendan Brady."

"Since he cheated on his wife while she was pregnant." Rae snaps.

"With me." Macca adds. "His brother-in-law."

"That was wrong." I reply. "But none of us are guilt free. At least half of you here have cheated on your partners."

"This is not about us!" Paddy shouts. "Why else do you love Brendan?"

I hesitate before I say,

"When we, you know, um, when he touches me ... I feel invincible. I feel strong. I feel treasured and alive. I feel connected to him the way I have never felt before with anyone else. I feel his equal. He listens. He cares. I get to take charge. And then he takes charge. Not literally but in here." I point at my chest. "And after, he holds me and I imagine that he never wants anything else. That I tick all his boxes, you know. He makes me believe that I am enough for him."

"And yet he is a homophobe." Noah says.

"And he denies what you are to each other in public." Mitzeee says.

"And he has never told you he cares." Amy says. "That he wants you with him."

"He told you you disgust him." Warren says.

How does he know about that?

I protest, "But he has shown me he cares even without words. And, Amy, I know you are worried I will be going back to an abusive relationship but I won't be. We are BFFs now yeah? After all that we have been through. I am proof that people can change and I think he can too. I think he has already."

"The words of a victim." Macca says. "I told myself the same thing. But he won't change. Once an abuser always an abuser."

"And sometimes abusers need to get a taste of their own medicine." They say in unison again. How are they doing that?

Their words dawn on me.

"What have you done to him?" I ask menacingly but inside I am petrified.

"Shall we bring him out, boss?" Pete asks Paddy with a glint in his eye.

"Yeah, I never thought we'd ever get to this part." Noah rubs his hands in glee.

"You'll be thanking us, Ste. Just remember that." Warren says to me.

"It is better this way." Ames tells me. "He is not worth it."

"What do you mean?" I ask fretfully.

Paddy's smile is maniacal. "It means that you have failed the test. You haven't convinced us. Brendan is not worth it."

He points to his left and I follow his eye line. Brendan is on the floor crumpled, bruised and bleeding, spotlighted in the dark room by a gentle light.

"Bren!" I scream in anguish and run to him landing painfully on my knees to get down to his level. I scoop him into my arms and see that he is still breathing but barely.

"Call an ambulance!" I shout at them.

But they do not move from their seats.

"Stop being such a drama queen." Mitzeee says. "There is no gratitude now-a-days is there. We have done you a favour darling."

"No ambulance." Pete smirks.

"Brendan!" I look down at him. "Brendan, talk to me!"

I shake him vigorously. He groans in response but doesn't move.

"Which one of you did this?" I shout at them.

They all start laughing. I glare at them but where they were turns to pitch black in an instant like the rest of the room.

They have disappeared. They are all guilty.

"Stephen?"

I look down.

"Bren?" I whisper.

His eyes flutter open and stare unfocussed at me.

Tears I did not know I had in my eyes fall onto his face.

"I'm right here." I lean down to him and place a kiss on his forehead and then look around me. Nothing but the densest black. "We'll get you sorted. I'll get help."

I say but hope is fading fast.

"Help!" I shout so loudly that my own ears ring from the volume. "Help!"

"Stephen." Bren groans. "It's okay."

No it isn't. I am no medical expert but I know that Brendan is in a bad way and without medical help I know he won't make it. I couldn't cope. I can't lose him. Not before I tell him that my hurtful words were all lies; that I still love him more than words can say.

I choke a sob of pure sorrow.

"I am so happy you are here with me." He whispers and shudders before going completely still.

I shake him.

Nothing.

"Brendan?"

Nothing.

"No" I say quietly. "No. No. Please. No."

And I can't stop rocking him and pulling him close until it sinks in. The realisation.

He is gone. Forever.

And I scream.

-0-0-

"Stephen!" I am being shaken vigorously. "It's okay. Wake up."

What?

"Wake up. Hey. It's just a bad dream." Amy's voice is soothing against my ear. "It's okay."

I suddenly sit up and open my eyes. I am dripping wet with sweat and disorientated. The room is dark except for the street light shining in.

I look at Amy and shuffle away from her. I remember her in my nightmare. Evil Amy.

"You were struggling in your sleep. You screamed." She rubs her eye tiredly. "I think you had a nightmare."

I take calming breaths and feel my heart beat even out a bit. "Yeah."

"Wanna talk about it?"

"No." I say and wipe my brow. "What time is it?"

She looks at her watch.

"4 am."

We both groan.

I flop back into the bed on my back and contemplate the ceiling. Bits of the dream flash through my head.

"Feeling better?" Amy asks.

I nod and drag my hands through my hair. I am bottling up too much. Maybe that is why I had such a fucked up dream. Maybe I should share with Amy.

"Can I talk to you about yesterday?" I ask.

She yawns and then smiles. "Of course."

I cover my eyes with my hands and mumble. "I finished things with Noah."

"You what? Why?"

"Didn't feel right."

"Which part?"

"All of it."

"He is a nice guy."

"There are plenty of nice guys Amy. It wasn't enough." I turn my head to the side to look at her. "I couldn't, you know, do it with him."

"Right." She says clearly confused and then she gets it. "Oh! Oh!"

I nod.

"You never had sex with him?"

"Don't look so surprised!" I say, slightly offended. "I'm not a slut!"

"I know, but a month." She grins. "Plus Noah has muscles!"

"Perv!"

"Prude!"

We smile at each other. I already feel better speaking to her.

"So yesterday we got down to our birthday suits but when it came down to it I couldn't-"

"Get it up?" She guesses.

"No!" I blush. "I just couldn't get into it." I pause. "I saw Brendan at the restaurant."

Her eyes widen in the dark. "What? Why was he there?"

"He was with a friend from Dublin." I blink slowly. "They seemed close."

Amy stares at me. I blink again.

"Oh no, Ste! Don't tell me you left Noah because you still like Brendan."

"Okay. I won't." I say sheepishly.

"You were jealous of his friend! It's obvious. Why does he still have such a hold on you? He isn't good for you, Stephen. You need to move on. Maybe Noah wasn't right for you but there are plenty more fish in the sea; better and less dangerous fish than Brendan Brady."

"What if I don't want other fish?"

"What are you saying?" She asks.

"Nothing."

"You aren't going back to him are you?"

"No!" I say quickly.

"Ste!" She says angrily. "Please don't. I don't want you coming back to me with tears in your eyes or bruises on your body."

"Ames, I'm not going back." I tell her firmly.

I take her hand in mine.

"Good." She says with a smile. "Because he scares me."

I nod but don't say anything. All that keeps going through my head is what would happen if Brendan was out of my life forever they way he was in my dream. It makes me hitch a breath in distress. I give Amy a quick grin and hope it covers my upset.

"I'm knackered." I say and fake a yawn. "I think I'll take the kids to the park tomorrow morning."

She smiles. "It's okay. You have a lie in after everything that has happened today. I'll take them. Then maybe you can join us later."

"Okay." I settle into a more comfortable position. "Stay, yeah?"

She understands what I mean. I need her here in my bed as a friend tonight.

"Yeah." She says and settles next to me.

-0-0-

By the time I get up, midmorning Sunday, Amy and the kids are gone. I shower, shave, eat cereal, drink juice, glance at my watch, grab my keys and head out of the house.

My plan is to join Ames but my feet take me in an entirely different direction.

I make a quick call, "Hey Amy? Um, I think I'm going to stay home. I don't feel great."

I hate that I am lying to her but she won't understand what I am about to do. I can barely understand it.

I stand in front of Brendan's door, take a deep breath in and knock. I feel like I am waiting forever. It is almost long enough for me to change my mind. But I have to make sure he is okay and I have to let him know the truth about how I feel about him.

Then I'll go.

The door opens suddenly and I step back when I see him. I get an unpleasant superimposed vision of Bren all bloodied up. But then it is just him, unscathed, with his dark hair, pale blue eyes, stubble, moustache and lithe body that manages to looks relaxed and poised for action all at the same time.

His eyes widen in surprise as he leans on the door and stares at me as if he is hallucinating.

Suddenly, I don't know what to say. I fiddle with my sleeves. I think about how I would feel if I never saw him again; if he was taken from me.

"I couldn't-"

The words get stuck in my throat. My mouth feels impossibly dry.

-_live without you._

I lick my lips to wet them and he follows my every move.

_Just tell him and then walk away._

But then he curls his finger into the collar of my jumper and pulls me to him. He is impossibly gentle, as if I will turn to vapour if he so much as breathes.

"You're going to stay?" He asks.

"Yeah." I say it without thinking because it is what I want. I don't want some _nice_ guy. I want Brendan even if it means never hearing the words I thought were so important in a relationship because I am starting to understand that actions speak louder. I think Brendan screams with his actions that he cares.

I kick the door closed behind me and walk to him.

"I'll take it." I say and then I let instinct take over and kiss him. I'll take him as he is.

He takes a moment to respond like he can't process what is happening fast enough but then he folds me into his arms.

No.

He lifts me into his arms and crushes his lips to mine and makes me his again. I have no idea how I existed without him, guys. When we tumble onto his old sofa in the front room the wind leaves my lungs because of his weight on me. I can't help but grin. He looks down at me and grins too. We peel each other's clothes off slowly punctuating each action with a kiss. In a reversal of the status quo he winces once or twice because of the bruises inflicted by Noah. I do my best to kiss them better.

When he finally enters me I grip him to me, mind, body and soul. We rock together as one; Brendan burying himself deep in me while I push up to him giving him everything of myself and taking everything he offers to me.

I hear myself whisper,

"I love you."

I say it right to him; to his face, into his eyes with my lips nearly on his as he continues to make love to me.

I don't give him a chance to say anything though. I don't need to hear the words back. I just need him to know that this is how I feel. So I drag my hands up to comb through his hair and pull him to me. I kiss him how he fucks me; with intent and purpose and every bit of emotion I have.

"I know." He groans as he presses his lips to my neck, inhales and pushes into me double time. He wraps a fist around my rigid leaking cock urging me to catch up with him because I can tell by his sounds that he is close. He turns me into a useless puddle of desire; transporting me over the edge as he tugs at my dick and pounds into me.

We reach our climaxes together like a beautiful cliché and I dig my fingers into his arms and I wrap my legs securely around his waist so that I feel his shudders with mine until he collapses all limp and worn out over me.

I stroke him soothingly until he lifts his head up from his spot. Yeah, that spot in my neck that he loves so much. He kisses me there and then looks down at me. He pushes my hair off my sweaty forehead with a finger and runs it down over my cheek, following it with his eyes.

He gently touches our lips. He is still slightly out of breath.

"I missed ye."

I almost don't here his quiet words but then he kisses me again and repeats them. "I missed ye, Stephen."

And I smile because those sincere words alone are more than I would have ever hoped to hear from him.

I pull him into my arms nestling myself in him in pure bliss.

"I know."

-0-0-

So we eventually made it to his room.

'_Paddy and Cheryl might be coming back. What a show for all!'_ He had said drily as he caressed my naked body on the sofa. I leapt off him at the thought.

'_Uh. No!'_ I bolted up the stairs after picking the used condom and my clothes up and was quickly followed by him laughing.

We got into his bed and continued what we had started downstairs until we were spent and fell asleep in one another's arms.

So you can imagine how annoyed I am now that I am being woken up by him even if I like his method.

"Stop that!" I moan tiredly. I feel his stubble and moustache as he tongues down my back slowly, languidly. I need sleep and he won't let me be.

"We have some more catching up to do." He murmurs as his hands join his quest and knead at my buttocks pushing them apart and then together again.

"No, Brendan." I complain weakly. He has worn me out. I bury my face deeper into my pillow and shake my bum to dislodge him. He doesn't get the message and gives first one bum cheek and then the other a kiss.

"Come back to work at _Chez Chez_." He whispers and kisses me there again repeatedly, enticingly.

"No." I mumble. I may be arching my arse up to him. I can't help it. Bren is very persuasive when he wants to be. "I make good money at _Look Sharpe._"

"I need ye at the club, Stephen." He coaxes.

I lift an eyebrow.

"The punters are missing yer special cocktails."

"Oh." I feel deflated. I thought-

"And I wouldn't mind having ye around." He bites my bum lightly and then licks it. "Ye know, on tap."

"You have a one-tracked mind." I groan when he rubs at my hole over and over again. "And besides, you don't want me at the gym because you don't want me anywhere near Noah."

Bren stills his actions completely. Me and my mouth. Shit.

He moves off me and sits on his side of the bed.

I roll to my side and prop myself up on my elbow to face him.

"Brendan." I say cautiously.

He leans over to the bedside table, grabs a stick of gum and pops it into his mouth.

"Stephen." He says with a shaky voice. "Ground rules."

"Okay?" I think I know what he is going to say.

_Don't tell anyone about us._

_Don't say you love me ever again._

_Don't expect any more soppy sentiments from me like, 'I missed you.'_

"Never say his name in my presence ever again." He whispers as he studies his nails.

"But Bren-" I protest.

He raises a silencing hand. "Or martial arts." He turns to look at me.

"Especially _jujutsi_." He is serious. "And promise me that you'll never want us to go to _Realto_ again. It has left a bitter taste in my mouth."

_... I don't love you anymore..._

_... I am staying over at Noah's tonight, Brendan, and I'm going to let him fuck me until I can't think straight..._

_Realto _is associated with bad memories for him.

"I told Noah it was over last night." I say carefully. "Are you jealous?"

"No." Brendan places his hand on my cheek and runs a thumb across my lips. "It's just that recently I have taken an aversion to pumped up gym instructors with a working knowledge of Italian and grand delusions of being the next Bruce Lee."

"Really?" I give him a small smile and sit up straight. "An aversion?"

"Actually, it's pure hatred." He says unapologetically.

"Why?"

"Well ..." He whispers and leans in to kiss me. "Maybe it has something to do with him stealing something from me. Something I care about."

He looks sideways at me and scowls. My grin broadens. He is talking about me, isn't he?

"Say the thing was a car, right?" I whisper back. "You should know that the gym instructor never got to take it for a ride, if you know what I mean."

He lifts an eyebrow and then smiles. "So what ye are saying is he never got to check out the interior."

"Ew. But yes. Exactly." I say and then poke his side. "And, by the way, the _thing_ he stole from you..."

"Yes?"

"... You never really lost it, Bren. It was always yours."

He scoffs at that; too soppy for him. I am walking a fine line here. I look at him with gentle eyes to let him know that I mean what I say.

He touches my chin between his thumb and first finger and places his lips on mine softly. He then pulls away a fraction and stares at me.

I smile smugly.

"Little fecker!" He mumbles before having his wicked way with me again.


	16. Chapter 16

I lean towards Stephen for what would be our millionth kiss this morning but he ducks away. What's he playing at?

"I've got to go." He says reluctantly pushing me away then rolling out of my bed and standing up in one fluid move. He slips into his clothes with his back to me. "Amy has taken the kids to the park. I should go home, shower and join them."

I prop myself up on an elbow and eye him up as he dresses.

Stephen has changed physically. Don't worry. It's positive. He is still slim but he has more muscle definition; a lithe, toned physique. He looks hot. The lad has clearly become familiar with the weights at that home for posers he works at. What I try to gloss over in my mind is who is behind his lifestyle change.

I decide that he could do with staying with me a little longer so I say, "Shower here. Cheryl is out at the club."

He bends over to put on his shoes. Not a bad view. Then he turns to face me. "What about Paddy?"

My blood runs cold. "Who?"

"Your mate. The restaurant. Yesterday." He says as if I am remedial. He points at the blow up mattress on the floor. "I figure he is staying with you."

"Yeah. Yeah." I say slowly. "He is at the _SUBAR_ in underpants being bossed about by Mitzeee."

Stephen looks curious. "You roped him into the fashion show?"

"Mitzeee did." I say.

He looks at me a little uncertainly. "You know, when I saw you yesterday through the window, I thought you and him were..."

I raise an eyebrow.

"Like, you seemed close, you know?" He blushes and tugs at the corners of his sleeves. His actions make me want to kiss the hell out of him because he looks coy, awkward and fucking adorable.

"No." I answer. "I don't know."

"Yes you do. Tell me about him."

I don't like this line of conversation. I don't like hearing Stephen talk about Paddy. As I said before this is definitely an example of where my past should never meet my present because my experience with Patrick explains everything about yours truly; why and how I am the way I am today. I don't want to rehash what happened a lifetime ago.

"He is an old friend from back home." I say. Casual. Through away.

Stephen nods but I can tell he doesn't buy it. "All these friends from home..."

He can't keep the sharpness from his tone.

"What is that supposed to mean?" I ask.

"Macca, Pete." He says softly.

"Your point?" I drawl.

"You are one big black hole, Bren. Full of secrets. I don't expect you to come out publically with our relationship or for you to declare undying love for me..."

I roll my eyes automatically.

"... but I want to be treated as your equal, your significant other." He gains confidence with every word. "I want you to treat me like your boyfriend."

I want to scream with the discomfort that term causes me. _Boyfriend_! Fucking hell. Next thing he'll be buying us matching tuxedos, wedding bands and an adopted kid from China. Fuck.

"Don't freak out. I am not talking about walking hand in hand in town, dinner with friends or cinema dates." He continues softly.

From his expression it is clear he has thought of all those things.

"All I need is for you to be open and honest with _me_. Allow me to support you when you need. Tell me when things make you happy or sad. I want you to know that I am here for you and you can tell me anything."

I scoff at that. He has no idea what he is saying. He can't handle who I really am. He would leave me and I wouldn't blame him. I would leave me.

I clear my throat as I imagine myself telling him every bad thing I have done like a sinner seeking penance in a confessional until he turns white with shock and runs away without looking back from the monster he thought he knew and loved.

"I can't, Stephen." I say firmly.

His shoulders drop. I am an asshole. I am denying him the bare minimum requirement for him to deem that what we have is a relationship. He isn't asking for much but I can't give him even that.

We stare off for a moment that seems to last a lifetime.

"Bren?" He says quietly. "Have I ever been more than a fuck buddy to you?"

Fuck's sake. This conversation needs to come with a tampon. Did he seriously just ask that?

"Stephen." I say in exasperation. He knows it is more; so much more. Scarily so, for me. It makes me feel like I have no control when it comes to my feelings for him.

He shakes his head angrily. "Oh my God! I am such a fool."

No. He is a drama queen.

I sit up straighter in bed. Suddenly this feels like a talk that requires being clothed. I throw my tee-shirt on.

"What's the problem?" I ask calmly.

He glares at me. "I had convinced myself that you cared about me, that you showed me through your actions. The way you treat me differently, like I am special to you. The presents. The poker night winnings. Even beating up on Noah. I figured that was your fucked up way of showing me that you loved me even if you couldn't say it. But I got it all wrong, didn't it? I just wanted you so badly that I made myself believe that you wanted me just as much. When am I going to learn?"

He walks to the door and grips the handle ready to step out of the room and my life again. I literally feel like the oxygen has been sucked out of me at the realisation.

"Pete, Paddy and I all knew each other back in Dublin." I say and then take a shaky breath out.

Stephen turns around to face me. He can't believe that I have started to talk. "Like as in friends?"

I shake my head. "Peter was my best friend. And Patrick... I looked up to him. He had swagger. We did everything together."

He comes back into the room and takes a seat on the edge of the bed and the oxygen is back. I can breathe again.

"Go on."

"We grew up in the same neighbourhood but they just about tolerated each other. Pete tried to keep me on the straight and narrow; insisted I go to school. Don't get me wrong, he wasn't squeaky clean. But Paddy would get me to bunk off and we'd get up to mischief."

"You joined a criminal gang." Stephen whispers.

"That makes it sound a lot more organised than it was."

"You know my past. I've had problems with the police. What was so difficult about telling me that?"

"Nothing." I say.

Understanding hits Stephen. "Something happened later, right, between the three of you?"

I nod.

"What was it?" He whispers apprehensively.

I struggle to bring myself to say more but there is something about the way he looks at me, with gentle encouragement that feels like one of Chez's hugs when I am having a bad day. So I close my eyes and prepare to reveal all.

At that moment, Stephen's mobile rings.

"Shit. It's Amy. Could be the kids." He says as he looks at it. He throws me an apologetic look before answering. "Hello? Everything okay?"

I stare at him as he speaks into the phone. Sometimes, with all his vulnerability, I forget that he is a responsible young adult with dependent children.

"Yeah ... Sorry, I headed out to find you because I was feeling better ... I guess we missed each other ... I'll turn around now... I should be home in twenty minutes... bye."

He ends the call. "I need to go. It's nearly lunch time and I need to hang out with the family."

I am torn between relief and disappointment. I nod. "Sure. Domestic bliss. Playtime. Cuddles from daddy and mummy. Rock on."

He grins. "We can continue talking later if you want."

I feign enthusiasm. "Yeah! Sounds great. Because talking about me feelings is my favourite. Like if ye said we should fuck instead, I would say 'No, Stephen. Give me a helping of '_chat'_ over '_sex'_ any day.'"

"Sarcasm isn't cute." He says lightly and then leans over to gently kiss my lips. "I'll call you later, yeah?"

"Yeah."

-0-0-

I go to the club to find Chez and see if she wants to grab Sunday lunch at the Dog. I am ravenous.

She is on the ground level with Peter. Their relationship was strained in the past because I had told Chez to keep her distance from him the way I had for Patrick. But Hollyoaks is a small place and Cheryl is a social butterfly so it was only a matter of time before they became mates; not close but close enough to make me uneasy.

"Hey Brendan!" Chez says with a smile. "Look who came to visit. It's Pete!"

I glance at Pete.

"I have eyes, Chez." I mutter as I peruse the freshly squeezed juice and a selection of gourmet sandwiches cut into quarters on the counter between them; food from _MOBS_. Without invitation I pick one up take a big bite out of it and take a sip out of Chez's juice. God. It has been a while since I have felt this hungry! In fact it has been about a month. I wonder why? I devour the rest of the sandwich and pick up another.

"What are ye doing here?" I mumble to Peter through my stuffed mouth.

"Good to see ye too, Bren." He replies. He is bemused by my appetite.

"Is it?" I say.

"Yer appetite is back." Chez grins. "Bren's been eating less than wee Vicky Beckham recently."

"It's linked to your mood, ain't it, Bren?" Pete says knowingly. "Something or someone has cheered you up."

"Thanks for the analysis but this is called having lunch." I reply and happily continue my attack on the food.

"The cheeriness hasn't got anything to do with Patrick being around, has it?" Cheryl asks.

Pete loses his smile and goes a nasty shade of grey. "Patrick who?" His voice breaks with the shock. "Not O'Flaherty?"

"Yes." Cheryl says. "I was just as shocked as ye are. Apparently he was caught breaking into a car here in Hollyoaks yesterday. He is remanded on bail and staying at ours until his court date."

Pete looks at me. "How long is he going to be here?"

"No more than a week I think." I say.

"What was he doing here in the first place?" He asks probing me with his eyes.

"He hasn't said yet." I reply. I can tell that he has a thousand questions to ask so I say,

"Sis, ye couldn't give us a minute, could ye?"

And, no, I am not going to tell you what we discussed. It would give the game away too soon and where is the fun in that? ...

-0-0-

I walk into _Look Sharpe_. No, I haven't joined the gym. Can you see me pumping iron? My reason for being here will be very clear to the smart ones amongst you. And it has nothing to do with Stephen's ex.

"Afternoon Brendan." Tony says from behind the reception desk. There is a long line of weekend gym and spa goers in front of him.

"You don't normally work reception, do you?" I say, jumping the line.

"As you well know Ste does." Tony replies. He looks harassed. "But it is his day off. I don't know how he handles the mob so well and all with that smile of his."

I ignore the squeeze of emotion that feels a lot like pride.

"Office. Now." I say as I head towards the room in question.

"You know, someone should really teach you manners." He mumbles but still follows me into his own office to the protest of all his customers. "I'm trying to run a business here. This had better be quick."

He closes the door and I reach into the inside pocket of my suit jacket extracting a brown envelope. I pass it over to him.

"It will be. I get an allergic reaction if I hang around vanity for too long." I say.

He looks at the contents of the envelope, whistles softly and looks back at me.

"This is a lot of money, Brendan."

"It's his."

"I'm tired of this." Tony groans. "Why not just give it to him directly? Why the shadiness?"

"Why is it any of your business?"

"Because you keep asking me to pad out Ste's pay check with extra cash. He takes home more than my most senior trained beautician and I want to know why."

See. Did you figure that out? I told you I would get the poker night money to him somehow. There is no way Ste could survive and provide for his family on the pittance Tony had been planning to pay him. Fucking minimum wage. This arsehole is so tight ... and not in a good way. Get it? Yes? Okay. Let's move on.

"Fine. If you must know it is because the eejit is too proud and I want to help him out. Times get tough with two wee kids to take care of. I should know."

"Brendan Brady." Tony says sarcastically. "Full of charity."

I shrug. "What can I say? I am misunderstood."

"Okay then, don't tell me what this is about." He is annoyed. How funny. I was actually saying the truth and he didn't believe me. It says a lot about what the world thinks of me.

I am done here but first I walk right up to Tony so that I am so close I can clearly see the thin red capillaries on his eyeballs. I whisper intently,

"By the way, I don't need to remind you that this stays between us, do I?"

"No."

"Because, God forbid, the cops should find out that your own brother torched the building that was standing where we are now. I daresay two words might come to mind. Insurance. Fraud."

I don't wait for a reply and walk away feeling smug until I bump into another arsehole just outside _Look Sharpe_. You guessed it.

Fucking Noah.

I am still feeling sore after yesterday's punch up so I wince from the impact.

He angrily stares at me and I smile when I see his healing split lip.

"What, have you come here for more?" He balls his fists up by his side.

I put my hands in my pockets. Calm. "Relax, Bruce Lee. I don't have a problem with you."

His laugh is short, sharp. "Oh, I'm sorry. I must be confused. Your fist and our fight were an expression of your respect for me. Is that it?"

Wow. He uses sarcasm better than I do.

"I'm just saying. I don't have a problem with you anymore." I say. Not now Stephen is back where he belongs, with me.

He narrows his eyes at me. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why is everything cool between us now?"

"No reason." I say.

He stares me down and then suddenly grabs my arm and pulls me to a quiet corner meters from his workplace.

I push him off me, "Get your hands off me-!"

He shoves me back and then sneers. "What? 'You filthy queer?' Is that what you were going to say?"

He pins me to the wall with both hands on my shoulders.

"What the fuck?" I say.

"That would make you a hypocrite!" He shouts. "I know, you dick! I fucking know everything!"

I struggle against him and finally find purchase on his chest and push him off me with all the force I possess so that he stumbles backwards.

"What are ye going on about?" I pant.

"You're gay!" He hisses. "You and Ste."

I feel like I am punched in the gut. I straighten my suit slowly.

"Ye what?" I say trying to act disinterested.

"Drop the act! He told me yesterday. Before he broke up with me." He answers.

I pretend surprise. "You two are over?"

"He said it was because he wasn't over you." He spits out. "I should have known. You and him. It is so obvious now. You were jealous of us. That is why you were being such a twat with me!"

I look around us. Luckily it looks like no one is near or paying attention to us.

"Fuck off."

I begin to turn away but he stops me. I can't believe Stephen told Noah about us. What was he thinking? If there is someone who will find reason to use that information against me it is him. What am I going to do about Noah?

We lock eyes. Archenemies bound by one man.

"Stay away from him, Brendan. You aren't good enough for him. He said so himself. He has called you a commitment-phobe, aggressive, dangerous, and closeted. You hold him back. He deserves better and you know it."

I wince at every word he says because he is right. I look Noah square in the eye and say words that I do not mean; words that, despite what you might think, are designed to protect not harm.

"I don't know what Stephen has been saying but trust me, Noah. I am not interested in that queer."

And with that, I turn on my heel and wander off ...

And it feels like history repeating.


	17. Chapter 17

_One month later...Friday afternoon..._

_..._

I spray aftershave to my right jaw and then my left then I look at myself in the steamed up mirror. I smooth moisturiser over my bare chest and limbs. Yeah, I'm metrosexual, me. It's all about the skincare! I flex my small but perfectly formed (even though I say so myself) peck muscles and biceps. I rub one dollop of hair gel through my hair and style. Done. I bare my teeth and give my reflection a smile.

That'll do.

"Ste!" Amy is on the other side of the bathroom door and she is not happy. "Come on! Stop hogging the bathroom! I'm going to pee myself in a second!"

"Just a minute! I'm nearly done." I shout back.

"You said that ten minutes ago!"

I secure my towel around my waist and step out of the room. Amy has her arms crossed in front of her and is tapping her foot impatiently.

"About time too."

"Sorry." I say with a grin, kiss her forehead and hum as I walk to my bedroom.

"Don't go without saying bye." She scowls before running into the bathroom and slamming the door behind her. Her mood doesn't dampen mine. I am looking forward to the weekend. I feel like I have been waiting for it my whole life.

I'll tell you how it all came about. Brendan's proposal came during a lunch time ... not marriage proposal, silly!...

-0-

The set up was simple enough. Brendan and I were on our lunch breaks. No one was at his place so we met up for a quick hour. It is incredible what you can do when you are short for time. He wordlessly let me into the flat and pulled me into a breathtaking kiss that he ended up having to stop because I got carried away.

"Food or sex?" He gasped breathlessly pushing me away from him gently; keeping me at arm's length to get some level of composure.

Eeny, meeny, miny moe.

I pushed into his personal space. "Both."

And that is how we eventually ended up sitting at his kitchen counter, post-shag; me in tee-shirt and boxers and him in those black boxer briefs that I always feel like taking off with my teeth.

I was greedily devouring sandwiches that I threw together for our lunch. He wasn't eating, though. That was strange. We both have big appetites but his is second to none so the fact that he had taken only one bite out of his food worried me.

'You 'kay?' I asked through a full mouth. 'Dun'u like i'? I cumak'u 'nutha won.'

He gave me a small smile that worried me even further because it could only be described as _sweet_ and Brendan Brady doesn't do _sweet_.

He took the sandwich out of my hand put it back on the plate and then held my hand. Yes. You read correctly. He held my hand.

'I need ye to be free this weekend. We are going away.'

I swallowed a lump of emotion that was a mix of anticipation, excitement and dread, 'What?'

'You heard.'

My face nearly split from the smile that formed but then my rational mind caught up. 'Why? I don't get it.'

'Stephen!' He looked exasperated. 'Can't a man do something nice for his-'

He stopped midsentence abruptly.

'His what?' I prompted, raising and lowering my brows at him for comic effect. I silently urged him to say the word that sticks in his throat so easily. _Boyfriend_.

He kissed me and it was beautifully violent. 'Ye are such a dick sometimes.'

I grinned. 'And you are a reluctant romantic.'

I hugged him then until he slowly melted into my embrace wrapping securely around me and breathing out.

-0-

I come out of that memory and grin as I get changed into my clothes and then glance at my watch. I should head out soon or I'll be late.

I grab my wallet, duffel bag and house keys.

Amy is waiting for me in the front room.

"I'll see you on Sunday, yeah?" I say.

I can't stop grinning. I must look mad.

"Are you going to tell me what the crazy smiling is all about?" She says. "What's with you? You've been grinning like a fool for weeks now. It's a little creepy, you know?"

I look suitably sheepish. This is what I want to tell her...

_Okay, so like, I got back with Bren four weeks ago, right. And since then things have been great between us. He is different, Ames; more open. He told me about Pete and Patrick, for example; how Pete got into an accident when they were younger. But he wouldn't go into details. Fair play. It's not my business. He told me Patrick was bad news growing up and that he had had a brush with Hollyoaks police but that he got let off at a court hearing on a technicality. _

'_He attracts danger, Stephen.' Brendan said to me when I coaxed him to talk. 'Paddy... He looks innocent but he can be ruthless. Stay away from him.' _

_He held me close to him when he said that. He does that a lot when we are together alone. He wraps me in his arms like he doesn't want to let go. And he smiles and laughs a lot with me. He is happy when I am around. He even expresses how he feels about me more. I'm not talking big stuff like saying he loves me. Let's not get unrealistic. But every so often he'll say something like,_

'_Ye are so fucking hot I can't take it.' Or..._

'_I've been thinking about ye all day.' Or..._

'_I want ye now.' Or..._

'_Ye are mine, Stephen.' Or _

'_Come 'ere.'_

_He says that last one with a whisper and the craziest intensity in his eyes just before kissing me until he takes my breath away..._

"Spring cheers me up." I answer Amy.

"Okay then, why are you all dressed up for your aunt." She looks at me sceptically. "And why are you going to see her? You used to call her an evil witch."

"Actually, it was evil bitch." I grin. "And maybe she has changed."

"If you say so." I feel like telling her the truth; that I am off with Bren for a surprise weekend and I can't wait. But she wouldn't understand. She is not his greatest fan.

"Why do I get the impression that you are keeping something from me?" She narrows her eyes at me.

I walk up to her and kiss her softly on the cheek.

"I'm not." I say. "Look I've got go, yeah. Give me a ring whenever."

She nods. "I will. It's good to see you looking so happy after the last few miserable months."

"Thank you. I am... happy, I mean. Really happy."

And I can't wait for what Bren has got in store for us as I head out of my house.

-0-0-

I stand on the corner of my cul-de-sac and wait but not for long. Brendan draws to a stop in front of me in his black sleek dark-tinted sports car at exactly two pm. The passenger window winds down smoothly and he leans over from the driver's seat.

He talks to me over his shades. "Hi stranger, ye fancy coming for a ride?"

His grin is seductive and he looks relaxed.

I grin back and say, "Actually, I've already been invited for a mystery weekend away with my hot boyfriend. He should be coming any minute so you better go before he sees you."

He takes his sunglasses off and raises an eyebrow at me. "Why? Is he a hard man?"

"Yeah." I say getting into role. I lean against the car. "He punched the last guy who tried it on with me."

Brendan grimaces. "Maybe that's because he was a waste of space. Showing off his Italian and Kung fu."

I grin at his tone of resentment. He gets so jealous and he has slipped out of his 'stranger role'.

"_Jujutsi_." I correct him.

"Whatever. So how about it? I promise that whatever ye were going to do with yer punk boyfriend is nothing compared to what we could do together."

My heart speeds up in anticipation. Fuck. I can only imagine what he has in mind. It turns me on. Guys, I have got it bad for this Irish bad boy.

"Where would we go?" I whisper.

"That's a secret." He says with a glint in his eye.

I act like I am weighing up his proposal for a while and then get into the front passenger seat. I lean in to kiss him softly on the lips. The windows are practically black so no one can see us and he doesn't freak out.

"You are looking good." He whispers. He sniffs my neck and growls seductively.

"I pissed Amy right off while getting ready." I admit.

"Where does she think you are going?" He asks as he sets off on the road. He is a confident driver. When I say confident I mean that I make sure my seat belt is secured and grip my seat for dear life as I feel the g-force of his speed.

"My aunt's place." I say.

He laughs. "But ye don't speak to yer family."

"I know." I grin. "What did you tell Chez?"

"Business trip." He says.

"So seriously, where are we going?"

He smiles but keeps his eye on the road. "Stephen. Just because ye keep asking doesn't mean I'll tell ye."

"Fine. I'll change the subject then." I say as I make myself more comfortable. "How's Paddy?"

"You know that subject is off the menu." He says and winks at me.

"So I'm curious about the man that has been sleeping with my boyfriend for the last four weeks."

"On my floor. Jealous?" He says.

"Maybe. Why hasn't he gone back to Ireland?"

"I don't know."

I let out an almighty sigh. This conversation is going nowhere. I lean on the window with my forehead and stare out of it. We get onto the M53 heading to Liverpool and my curiosity of what Bren has in store for the weekend peaks.

"We are going to Liverpool, aren't we?" I say decisively.

He snorts in reply.

"Are we going to check out Abbey Road?" I ask as I scan the fields either side of the featureless motorway.

"No."

"Penny Lane?" I turn to look at him.

"No." He continues to stare ahead. He has a good poker face.

"We can't stay cooped up in a hotel room all weekend." I moan.

"If ye keep trying to guess where we are going yer going to spend tonight in yer own room." He grumbles but his mouth twitches. He is keeping a smile in.

I grin but I don't take my chances. I shut up for the rest of the journey until I see a sign that makes me gasp.

"No way!" I sit up straight. "No way, Bren!"

He grins. "Yes way."

_John Lennon International Airport_

"I didn't bring my passport." I say numbly.

"I nicked it when I came over last time." He smiles as he pats his right jeans pocket.

I should be cheesed off but I'm not.

"Where are we going?" I say excitedly. I am practically jumping out of my seat. He glares at me. "Okay. No. Fine. I can wait to find out."

Then I remember something kind of important and it makes me feel queasy.

"Like, we have to fly, right?"

"Yes." He says as we get to the long stay car park and he eases into a parking spot.

"Um. Of course it is safe and everything, yeah? Flying and stuff. It's just that, like, can we get there by car or boat instead?"

I've never flown before. What if we crash?

"No. Ye scared, Stephen?" He undoes his seat belt and mine.

I can't lie. I nod slowly. "It'll be my first time flying."

He quickly looks around for passers-by before curling a hand around my neck and drawing me to him. His kiss is gently reassuring.

"Don't worry. I'll be there."

-0-0-

And he is.

He absorbs all my excitement when I find out what our destination is at check in. It is like he gets high on my euphoria. When I board the plane and have a mini panic attack, he firmly lays a hand on my shoulder and squeezes it; not intimate enough to raise eyebrows but just enough to reassure me. And when I grip his thigh as if my life depended on it as we take off and touchdown, he doesn't shove me away in horror. Instead he gently takes my hand in his for a second, gives me a small calm smile and then returns it to my armrest.

I know it is not huge but it is a step in the right direction. I like this new Brendan. He can stay.

We land and I feel like hugging the captain for not killing us. Is it possible to be terrified and excited at the same time?

The co-captain speaks over the PA system,

"_Signore e Signori benvenuti a Roma …"_ Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to Rome...

"Oh my God, we are in Italy!" I gasp at Bren.

His smile looks like victory.

-0-0-

So I guess you want to know what we get up to in Rome. Well first of all we get a taxi to the hotel. It is in the centre of the city so my jaw is pretty much on the floor as we drive past amazing beautiful ancient Roman structures that I remember learning about in school when I bothered to pay attention.

By the time we walk up the steps of the hotel to its reception I am dying to ditch my bags and head straight out again.

"Buon Giorno, Hotel San Lorenzo. My name is Chiara. Do you have a reservation?" The receptionist says with a polite smile.

"Buon giorno. Si. Il mio nome e Brendan Brady. Una stanza per me e mio amico per due notti."

I smile to myself. Bren is speaking Italian. I giggle inside. He has probably taken up martial arts lessons, too! He must really hate Noah because this whole trip has 'I can do it so much better than you, sucker!' written all over it.

The receptionist scans her monitor.

"Si, certo Signor' Brady. Ma c'è un piccolo problema. Ho solo una camera doppia."

I look blankly at her.

"Um. Yeah. Could ye repeat that in English." Brendan says sheepishly.

"Of course, sir." The receptionist says kindly. "Unfortunately we have no twin rooms left for you and your friend. There must have been a misunderstanding with the reservation. I could offer you a double and upgrade you to a deluxe."

Brendan frowns and the receptionist notices. I frown, too. I bet there was no 'misunderstanding'. This is a mini-con. Bren ordered a double, got a double, says he ordered a twin so that the hotel is left apologising and offering a better deal. I bet you I'm right.

"I assure you that the beds are king sized so there will be plenty of room to share."

"This is not acceptable." Brendan says shortly.

_Yes it is!_ I want to scream.

She smiles back knowingly. She thinks he is protesting too much. "You two are here for holiday?"

"Yes." I grin broadly. "This is my first trip to Rome."

She nods. "Then you must make the most of-"

"Fine!" Brendan says to Chiara, interrupting us. "We'll take the deluxe double but I think it would only be fair to throw in complimentary breakfast, don't you?"

See. I told ya. A mini-con.

-0-0-

I should have known. We don't make it out of our room for the rest of the day. Brendan won't let me and I can't say I protest too much. Not with the evening and night we end up having! It is hard to pass up being together with no fear of getting caught.

We do it everywhere; in, on and around the bed, in the bathroom, on the floor. He draws the line at fucking on the small balconette with great views of the city. Fair play. I got carried away there. I am not really an exhibitionist. But I do get more uninhibited than I ever have; something to do with being abroad and feeling like anything is possible, I guess. Bren keeps having to clamp his hand over my mouth during our session to stop me from disturbing the neighbours with my passionate cries. It is his fault. He should stop being so good.

So we spend the rest of our first day ever in Rome making love, talking, sleeping, ordering room service, eating, sleeping, waking up, talking, making love, eating leftovers from room service, making love, talking and sleeping again.

Nothing wrong with that, I say!

-0-0-

Saturday is hectic. We are both exhausted and sore from the previous day but I am determined to check out Rome especially since Brendan hasn't been to here before either.

The weather is great; sunny, clear blue skies and not too hot. We end up seeing a lot over the course of the day. The Colosseum, the Pantheon, the Roman Forum, the Wedding Cake, the Vatican, the Spanish Steps, the Trevi Fountain. I am forgetting something ... I can't think right now. I am buzzing from it all.

And I am loving it. Brendan less so. I get the impression that he would be happy eating and fucking his way through this weekend but what would be the point of that scary flight if that was all we ended up doing?

It is his fault he chose Rome. There is so much to do!

I treat him to the day. I pay for almost everything we do to his frustration because I want to feel like I am putting something into our trip and this relationship. Normally, Brendan handles us financially and its nice. It is his way of showing he cares. But now that Tony pays me a ridiculously generous wage I feel like I can pull my weight a little more, money-wise.

On our way back to the hotel, we stop for ice cream. Bren tries to order in Italian and insists on paying as if he has a point to make. It's cute, really. Don't tell him I thought that ...

Honestly, I think secretly he is enjoying himself here in the eternal city with me; not having to think about the things that drag him down in 'normal' life; stresses about work, money, family, strange 'friends' and ... being closeted.

We get back to the hotel just shy of midnight and Chiara, the receptionist that checked us in, grins as we walk past her towards the lifts.

"Good day?" She asks.

"It were brilliant!" I gush. Bren rolls his eyes at my enthusiasm. "There was too much to see though."

"Then perhaps the two of you should come again and make it a longer holiday next time." She gives me a wink and extends out a brochure for the hotel. "Rome is beautiful in autumn. Really romantic. I would recommend it."

My eyes widen. Shit. _Oh no, Chiara. No. Why did you have to go and say that_?

Clearly she has sussed us out. She does not buy the whole 'friends' thing at all. Is it obvious that Bren and I are together? Because, honestly, we don't hold hands or get up into each other's personal space or anything in public. We are all butch pats on the back and manly laughs and things. Aren't we?

"Romantic? Erm, no." I say to her nervously. Then I glance at Bren. He is looking at Chiara wide-eyed. Actually he is staring and it is very creepy. I hope he doesn't create a scene.

"Bren?" I say quietly.

"Yeah?" His voice is small and measured.

I turn to Chiara. "Just to get things straight, we are _friends_, me and Bren. Like Bren said yesterday ..."

I stop talking when Brendan silently walks up to her with a serious hardened expression; predator chasing prey. I grip my hands into fists by my side anxiously. I feel like warning her to run before he beats her to a bleeding pulp.

He stops in front of her at the desk and sighs. She cowers a little. Then he picks the brochure out of her hands.

He glances at it turning it this way and that and I hold my breath.

He looks back at her and says,

"You said autumn, right?"

She nods.

"Good. Okay." And he walks back to me, combs his fingers leisurely through my hair before dropping his hand by his side so that I am left wondering if that micro-second public display of affection actually happened.

"Come on, Stephen. Let's go upstairs."

-0-0-

Sunday. The rain is unrelenting. It beats down on Bren's car as we drive past the sign that says,

_Hollyoaks_

_Twinned with Velletri_

The weather reflects my mood. I am upset that our weekend away is over. It feels like a dream that has ended too soon.

Bren stops the car at the corner that he picked me up.

He clears his throat and stares ahead.

"So I'll see ye around, yeah?"

"Yeah." I say but I don't get out. "Thank you."

"Yeah." He mutters.

I take my seat belt off and turn to him. "I know you hate this stuff but I'm going to say it anyway because it is how I feel. I have had a really great time this weekend. Like the best time of my life. I kind of feel like that every time we are together. I love you, Brendan."

Wow. That feels like a huge load off. It is only the third time that I have used the L word with him. I hope he doesn't mind. I can't help it. I kiss his cheek, grab my bag and step out of the car.

"Stephen." Brendan says in a low voice.

I turn to face him. "Yes?"

"Maybe next time we can check out Rome in autumn, yeah?"

That stupid Cheshire cat grin is back on my face.

"That would be ace!"

And I practically skip all the way home.

-0-0-

Being back at work on Monday is painful. The day is busy and long at _Look Sharpe_ with punters wanting to get into shape for the summer.

You must be wondering how things are between Noah and me since we work together. The answer is good. I mean, it was a little awkward soon after the break up but now we are cool. He is my friend with no ulterior motive which makes me breathe easier because I would have to cut him down if he tried it on with me again. I am with Bren now 100 percent even if it is in secret.

By the end of the day the Leisure Centre is empty except for Noah and me. Tony has asked me to close the shop up when everyone is out because of an engagement he had to get to earlier.

"See you tomorrow, Ste." Noah says.

"Yeah, see you." I grin at him.

"Do you want me to wait for you while you close up?" He asks.

"Nah. You go. I've still got to turn out all the lights before I lock up."

"Okay. By the way, I was thinking, now that things are cool between us I was wondering whether you wanted to do something sometime?"

I nod. "Yeah. That would be nice."

"Cool. How about a movie?"

I think of Bren and how he would feel about me and Noah in a dark movie theatre especially since I suspect the whole purpose of the weekend was to wipe any memory of Noah from my mind.

"I don't know. Maybe we could grab a quick drink with the lads instead."

Noah looks disappointed. "If you prefer. Talk tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Bye."

He leaves and I rapidly turn lights off as I amble from room to room in the building. The darker the building gets the creepier it feels.

I decide to lock up before I freak myself out completely so I head back to the reception area.

"Hello Stephen."

I jump and yelp like a girl from fright and whip my head around.

"Shit Paddy! You scared me!" I clutch my chest in shock. "We are closed now."

"I know." He walks to me in the dark. "Actually, I was looking for ye."

"Me?"

He makes me feel on edge so I take a step back. I remember what Bren said about him,

'_Paddy... He looks innocent but he can be ruthless. Stay away from him.'_

"Yeah. Ye have been gone all weekend, haven't ye?"

"Visiting me aunt." I squeak.

"That's what I heard." He says and comes closer to me. "Brendan's been gone too."

"Oh yeah?" I whisper. I hope I appear shocked enough.

"Yeah." He takes another step closer to me.

"What a coincidence." I say nervously.

"Not really, is it?" He replies.

I swallow tensely. What is he implying? Does he know that we were away together? So I say, "I don't follow."

"I think he has been trying to keep us apart." Paddy says.

"Who?"

"Brendan."

"What makes you say that?" I ask.

"He doesn't want me to tell you what happened when we were younger."

I feel a knot in my stomach forming. Why do I feel like I don't want to hear this?

"He hasn't told you, has he?"

I shake my head. "Why would he? There is nothing to say."

"I bet he told ye that I am a bad guy. Someone not to be trusted, right?" He walks right up to me and a shiver runs down my spine. "But he is the one with the secret and I think you might want to know the kind of man you are involved with."

"We are not 'involved'." I say instinctively.

"Keep denying it if you want."

I am stunned. Paddy knows about us. How? We have been so careful. And how come I feel like everything between Bren and me is about to change irrevocably; every beautiful step in the right direction is about to be reversed.

"Has he told ye about how Pete got into his wheelchair?"

I shake my head.

He points at a sofa.

"Maybe you should sit down for this, Ste."


	18. Chapter 18a

**PART 1 OF 2**

Three weeks after _Realto_, one week before Rome...

...

I am about to make my way down the stairs of _Chez Chez_ on my way out to meet Paddy in the late morning when my phone rings. I am running late but when I take one look at the caller ID I immediately retire back to the office and shut the door firmly behind me. If I could put up a 'Do Not Disturb' sign I would.

"Hi." I say quietly as I take a seat behind the desk.

"Hi." Stephen says. I can hear a smile in his voice.

"Hi." I repeat. Why is my mouth dying to fold into a grin?

"You at work?" He asks.

"Yeah, you?"

"Yeah." Then he says nothing for a while but I can hear him breathing across the line. He coughs self-consciously and says,

"Yesterday was ..." pause "... amazing."

He coughs in embarrassment and I get a flashback of the two of us at his house. Alone. No one else. His powerful but lean limbs wrapped around me, pulling me to him. His insistent full inviting lips. His constant smile. His mouth. Fuck me ... irresistible! His never-ending lashes framing ocean blue eyes, shading high cheekbones, begging me to dive right in. That bronzed skin, super smooth over firm muscles. And his body that is _designed_ to fit with mine. I swear. Because it does. We fit perfectly.

If I'm not careful I'm going to get hard just thinking about it all.

"Are ye calling for more of the same?" I drawl. "I wouldn't blame ye."

He scoffs. "Arrogance is so unappealing, Bren."

But his tone is light as air.

"It's a good job I don't fuck ye with my arrogance then." I reply with a smile. I absentmindedly pick up a pen and put the tip to a blank piece of paper.

"I may not let you fuck me with anything else with your attitude, stud!"

"Now we both know that ye can't get enough of me, Stephen."

I doodle distractedly while trying to stop myself from saying what my subconscious wants to say,

'_Meet me now._'

That would be stupid and desperate and I am not desperate. I don't need to see him again so soon. It is not like I am dependent on him for fuck's sake. But since getting back 'together' again three weeks ago, the morning after the showdown at _Realto,_ we have tried to make the most of the little time we get together alone. It has not been easy especially since, to the outside world, there is no reason we should interact at all. We don't work together. We aren't 'friends'. And to those in the know about our true past relationship (Amy, Rae, Mitzeee, Noah, Warren) we are a closed chapter. Our meetings are completely hush hush.

"So are ye coming over tonight or what?" I ask and get angry with myself. Shit. When did I become so soft? "Chez is out and I can get rid of Paddy."

'_Ste, mate! You've got clients waiting at the desk. Tony will slay you if he catches you making personal calls on the job.'_

Who was that?

"In a second." Stephen replies then he speaks to me on the phone. "I've got to go."

"Was that Noah?"

I can _feel_ his hesitation. "Yes."

"So ye talk to him?"

"I work with him so-"

What kind of answer is that?

_Ste, seriously! We're going to get complaints in a sec. Who are you whispering on the phone to anyway?_

"No one." Stephen says quickly to the gym bunny and it stings more than it should. I shouldn't be angry. I asked for secrecy. It is what I want. I should remind myself of that. I just wish he wasn't in such close quarters with his ex. It ties my stomach in knots and makes me wish I could put up an impenetrable fortress around him with a big 'He's Taken So Fuck Off, Noah!' sign on it.

"Look, I'll talk to you later, yeah. I'll get fired if Tony catches me." Stephen's voice drops so that I can barely hear him. "And I'm not going to get such a well paid job ever again."

_I'm fucking paying for half of it!_ I feel like screaming to him but of course I could never let him know. He would never forgive me for paying his way.

I open my mouth to make a quick quip but he ends our call before I get the chance.

The little fecker. Never mind. I'll call him later. Or tomorrow. Whatever. As I said, I'm not desperate.

I look down at the sheet on the desk in front of me and, in shock, I drop my pen. I get an instant wave of nausea at what I have written over and over again subconsciously.

Stephen

STEPHEN

sTEpheN

stephen

StEPHen

It confirms what I have known for some time now, deep down; that I have no control over how I feel for a certain blue-eyed Mancunian receptionist.

It sets in.

The realisation.

I am in deep.

Like, deeper than I have ever been.

This is not a good thing.

This makes me vulnerable.

And my vulnerability makes Stephen vulnerable.

I crumple the sheet up into a ball and rush to the bin in the other corner of the office. I manage to toss it in and crouch over just in time to empty the contents of my stomach into it.

_Get a grip, Bren. Fucking get a grip._

I spit, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and stand up unsteadily.

I stare at my reflection in a round mirror near the door, take a deep breath and smooth my moustache.

That's it.

Get a grip. Cool things down. Chill out.

I look at the time. Shit. I need to get going. Paddy is waiting for me.

-0-0-

I pat Paddy on his shoulder. He is dressed smartly in a shirt, tie and suit trousers. He looks good. Innocent.

Ha.

"Alright?" I ask.

He smiles broadly when he turns to see me. "Bren! I thought ye weren't coming."

"Couldn't leave the club straight away."

"Come on let's go in. The hearing is about to start." He says and leads the way into the courtroom.

"Why are ye so happy? They could charge ye with car theft and with yer record ye could be facing jail time."

"I don't have a police record, Bren. Not here in the UK. And anyway, don't worry. The charge won't stick."

"How do you know?"

His smile becomes sly.

"Let's just say that the owner of the car no longer feels it necessary to press charges. We have reached an understanding."

I could ask for details on what he means but this is the world of crime, baby, and things are best kept on a need to know basis.

-0-0-

Later that afternoon, back at the club, Patrick is buying drinks for everyone he sees. As he said, the charges against him were dropped and he is a free man. He is guzzling whiskey and like a true Irishman he is holding the liquor well ... for now.

I wander through the club aimlessly, trying to keep sober, while clutching my phone in one hand. You remember this morning I faced my feelings for Ste? Well, I have been thinking about it and I've decided to sort myself out; as I said earlier 'get a grip', 'cool things down' and 'chill out'. To that end I have set myself a challenge. It is a bit like a test I used to do when I was a wee kid where I would dip my head underwater when having a bath. The longer I stayed under the more powerful I felt but at the same time, the more I craved air until my lungs burned and I had to rise to the surface to inhale large lungfuls of it. Mad ain't it? I hated being dependent on anything, even air. Even as a child it made me feel weak.

So I am doing the same now. Testing myself. Only this time I want to see how long I can go without Stephen. Because being with him makes me feel stronger, more alive but it also makes me vulnerable to myself, to him and to others who can see my Achilles heel.

Stephen.

So far he has texted me once-

_Sorry I had to cut things short earlier. I'll talk to you properly later. x S. _

_P.s. Don't be jealous about Noah. We are just friends now._

I wanted to thump somebody when I read that.

And then Stephen called me. I didn't answer him of course so he left a message.

'_Hey. Um, so, I'm free this evening. Amy is having Lee over for supper. She wants him to get to know the kids, so ... anyway, let me know if you, you know, want to meet up or whatever. It couldn't be at mine though. Bye... Oh, by the way, it's Ste.'_

That made me smile. Did he really not think I would recognise his voice?

And finally he left me this voicemail message.

'_Hey, it's me again. I promise I'm not stalking you, yeah, but normally you answer straight away so I'm a little worried. Okay, a lot worried. Call me and tell me I am being melodramatic, yeah?'_

I am proving to myself that I don't _need_ him by not answering his calls. I am exercising restraint but this hurts. It has only been a few hours but I am at the limits of my self-control. I have been underwater for too long and my lungs are starting to burn.

So I punch a button that speed dials him.

He answers straight away.

"Bren! Oh thank God!" He says. He seems so relieved to hear my voice. I feel like jumping across the phone line and laying a kiss on him. "I've been trying to get hold of you. Where have you been?"

"Around." I say. "Ye know, busy."

I am an arse. He doesn't deserve my behaviour.

"Oh. Okay." He replies hesitantly. He laughs nervously. "I thought maybe you had gone off me or you were pissed off because of the Noah thing."

"We don't have to be all over each other all the time, do we, Stephen?"

"No. Um, guess not. It's just that I want to, like, be with you as much as possible. I like hanging out with you."

I grip the phone tighter in my hand. "Where are ye?"

"At work."

"Let's meet tonight." I say.

"Really?" I can hear his smile. "Okay."

"But, it can't be at mine." With Paddy in party mode I can't gaurantee an empty flat.

"It can't be at my place either but I have an idea." He says and I smile. I'm intrigued.

"Let's hear it."

So much for 'get a grip', 'cool things down' and 'chill out'.

-0-0-

Paddy's 'free man party' continues and it is clear that he is feeling no pain for all the alcohol he has ingested. I am willing the next two hours to fly by so that I can see Stephen again.

Patrick circles an arm over my shoulders and pulls me to the bar and indicates Rhys to pour us some whiskey shots.

"Have a toast with me." He slurs not taking his arm off me.

"Ye are legless mate. Maybe ye ought to stop at this one." I say.

He shrugs at me and raises his glass,

"To friendship." He slams his glass against mine.

"Yeah." I mumble and sip at my drink while he downs his and pushes it forward for Rhys to fill it again.

He stares at me through drunken nearly closed, unfocussed eyes. It is off-putting. He still hasn't told me why he is in Hollyoaks and now that he has been cleared of the car theft I figure he will probably go back to Ireland soon.

He leans into me awkwardly and says, "Bren?"

"Yes."

"Do ye ever look back at me, you and Pete and wish things worked out different?"

I look at him briefly then down the rest of my whiskey. I don't like where this talk is going. "What is the point in looking back? What happened happened."

"I want to put the past in the past and move on, Bren. That is why I am here in Hollyoaks."

"Then maybe you should speak with Pete."

"I've tried. He won't talk to me. How come he speaks with you?"

I shrug. "He always liked me better."

He nods and stares into his newly filled glass. "Brendan, there is something I need to tell ye."

"What is it?"

He leans in as if he is about to whisper something into my ear but then we hear a flurry of activity coming from the stairs. We both turn to see a group of young men make their way to the landing, laughing and speaking loudly.

If it isn't my favourite motley crew. That was sarcastic; each member turns my stomach. The drug-dealing twinky yank, rich kid golden balls, the boy in blue and Gym Bunny aka Dougie-boy, Riley, Ethan and Noah.

They fall silent when they see me, eyes widening in shocked acknowledgement. I don't know what they expected. I work here. Eejits. Dougie gives me a sheepish look like he is hoping I don't blackmail him into doing more work for me. Riley cracks his knuckles. He still remembers my sucker-punch on his friend at the _SUBAR_ all those weeks back. Noah throws me a death glare that would wither lesser men.

I send him a message with my eyes-

_I'm fucking the man you want but can't have, asswipe_.

I grin at him and salute.

Noah, Doug and Riley sit at the corner sofas while our resident boy in blue approaches the bar and gets the first round of orders in. He keeps glancing over at Patrick and while waiting for the four lagers he ordered he says,

"So you are still here, Patrick."

Paddy looks at him blankly. "And ye are?"

"Ethan Scott. The police officer who booked you at the police station. Remember?"

Paddy smiles broadly. "Oh yeah!"

"I thought you'd be on the first ferry out of here once you got the charges dropped."

"How did you know-?"

"I've been keeping an eye on your case." Ethan looks at me pointedly when he says that. He doesn't trust or like me what with the drug dealing, aggression towards punters, Danny Houston palaver and more recently my issues with his housemate. Of course nothing has stuck but he thinks I am dodgy as fuck and having people like Paddy associated with me is not helping my cause.

"Is there a reason why my whereabouts fascinate ye?"

"Call me curious." The cop says with a cold smile. "See, it was a cut and dry case of car theft. You were caught in the act by cops. And yet here you are as a free man having whiskey with him."

He points at me.

"The law has spoken." Paddy says calmly. "It says I'm innocent."

"No. It says that the court couldn't let the charge stick. There is a difference."

Rhys places the drinks on the counter. Ethan drops a note and picks the pint glasses up carefully.

"See ye around, officer." Paddy says jovially.

"Hopefully not," our resident boy in blue spits out before making his way to his friends.

"Ye are making enemies with the wrong people, Paddy." I warn.

"Who? Him? Please." He replies before downing the drink in front of him and going off to mingle with other punters.

I stay at the bar and try not to eavesdrop on the conversation going on at the lad's table but it is an impossible task not least because Noah knows that Stephen and I were involved and that is a powerful weapon in his corner. However, with the exception of trying to rough me up outside _Look Sharpe_ and telling me to stay away from Stephen, it doesn't look like he has told his mates my secret.

He makes me nervous.

"Guys, what a difference a month makes. Then we were all hooked up with girlfriends or boyfriend." Riley gives Noah a wink. "And now we are all single again. So I'd like to propose a toast to being young, free and single!" Riley says lifting his pint glass.

"Here, here!" Doug and Ethan say.

"Mate, I get these guys toasting what with Texas finally seeing sense and ditching Doug-"

"Hey!" Dougie-boy protests.

"And Riley dumping that father-loving tart Mercedes."

"I don't want to talk about it." Riley mumbles and downs the rest of the pint. "They are welcome to each other."

Noah says to Ethan."But you're engaged to Liberty."

Before Ethan can speak, Doug pipes in. "Haven't you heard? Mr. Lover-lover here has called it off." He takes a swig out of his drink gaining a beer moustache that he licks off quickly.

"What?" Noah says in surprise.

"Yeah. The dirty dog has been fucking around with that Teresa McQueen." Riley adds. "I've warned him against dating a McQueen."

"Hey! I was not fucking around with her when I was with Liberty. We never properly got together until I left Liberty."

"You mean dumped her at your engagement party." Doug says grinning.

"That's cold, mate." Noah says in disbelief.

"Yeah and now Teresa doesn't want to know." Ethan says depressed.

"How come I didn't know about this? I live with you."

"Because you have been moping around as if Lady Gaga, Britney and Madonna died." Ethan says.

"Don't even joke about that." Noah says.

"But seriously, dude, you have been dragging down the mood since Ste left you." Doug says.

My ears prick up. I face Noah dead on and he stares right back at me.

"I'm fine. It's cool. I caught him off a rebound. It was never going to be true love."

"Yeah you guys hooked up the day after he left Rae, right?" Ethan says.

"Yeah." Noah says and continues to look at me. "Guess he hadn't gotten over her yet."

"So like is he 100% gay now?" Dougie asks.

"What do you mean?" Noah says.

"Well the dude was straight before he met you."

"That is not how sexuality works, Dougie." Riley says.

"Yeah, I know. I'm just saying. Noah was the first dude Ste had."

Noah stays quiet but then stares me out and the four guys follow his eye line prompting me to drop my gaze.

They drop their voices.

"That guy is such a creep." Riley says.

"You don't know the half of it." Doug and Noah say together. They look at each other curiously.

"What do you mean by that?" Ethan asks.

"Nothing." Again they say together.

Doug clears his throat and changes subject. "So have you met any other guys that catch the eye?"

"No" Noah says. "Have you met any girls?"

"You know I haven't. I've got the biggest blue balls in Hollyoaks!" Dougb groans.

"Ste is still single. Now that he is out and proud maybe he is ready for a relationship with you. I mean, you got along, right? And he fit in with us. Maybe you should try again with him. He has had more than a month to get over Rae and since she is a girl and he is gay, I'd say that's plenty." Riley grins.

I put my glass back on the bar counter ... with force ... and it shatters to pieces.

The four of them look over at me again and Rhys gets to cleaning up the mess.

"Alright, Bren?"

"Yeah." I mumble. Noah had better keep his hands off.

Noah grins wickedly at me and then addresses his friends. The cocky git. "You know what, maybe I will. We can pick things up where we left off."

"So, like, I have this question and tell me if it is offensive or whatever." Douglas says.

"What's that mate?" Noah says and takes a sip out of his drink.

"Does it hurt? You know, getting fucked in the ass."

And the other three spit their drinks out in shock.

-0-0-

Stephen and I are sitting in the Jacuzzi of _Look Sharpe_ afterhours. All the lights are off except the underwater ones. They are enough to make us see each other clearly as we sit opposite each other, arms draped leisurely on the edges of the bath while our feet play lazily and occasionally splash water in each other's direction.

When he had said we should meet here, I had thought it was a bad idea. It is too central. Too obvious. Too exposed. But now that we are skinny dipping in the large circular bath, depressed into the ground with dim lighting it feels impossibly intimate and secluded.

I'll admit it was a good idea.

It relaxes me. I find myself telling him about Paddy's day in court and a little bit about my past with him and Peter but not much and he seems to accept it. Maybe it is because he doesn't expect me to tell him anything so even a little is better than nothing or maybe it is because we don't have enough time to waste on the past.

"So how long have you had your 'tache?" he asks, splashing me lightly.

"Since I was able to grow one." I say and smooth it down. "Charles Bronson had one and I wanted to be hard like him."

"Who?"

Our age gap is obvious when it comes to our points of reference. I smile at his puzzled look. "He was an American movie actor known for his tough guy image."

"It must have brought all the boys to the yard, that 'tache."

I don't know what that is supposed to mean but I detect sarcasm.

"Ye don't like it?" I ask.

"It gives me beard burn." He shrugs. "I have to tell Amy that I get a rash with her soap."

I laugh at that. "Do you now?"

He nods. "Have you ever thought of cutting it off?"

"No." I say immediately. The moustache is part of who I am. It defends my actions, covers my trembling lips when I am scared, my scowl when I am being duplicitous and my smile when I am happy. It is a prop. "Never."

He nods again. "It's like a mask isn't it? I can't imagine you without it."

This is getting too deep so I change the subject and tell him about the conversation I overheard with his ex's friends at the club.

"And Dougie-boy asked whether it hurt." I grin broadly.

"Seriously?" Stephen laughs uncontrollably.

"Aye." I say drinking in his happiness.

"And then?" He says wiping tears of laughter from his cheeks.

"They all got a comprehensive sex tutorial from the gym bunny."

He scrunches his face up. "Like details?"

"Aye." I track my foot up his leg slowly heading towards his groin or as far as it will go.

"Ew. Gross" He says, turning red at my advances.

I lift an eyebrow as I get close to my goal and he pushes himself further into the water and towards me until we meet. My foot against his dick.

"Why gross?" I whisper.

"I mean talking about it." His breath hitches because I have begun to rub against him. He mouths, "Sex."

My tone is low. "So phone sex is out then?"

He nods and I stroke him just the way he likes it.

"And if I said that I love getting you hard like this you wouldn't like it."

"No." He groans.

"Right." I says calmly although I feel anything but. "And if I said that I love when you lose yourself-"

"That's okay."

"I haven't finished. When you lose yourself and it is because I am in you, all the way in deep. And you beg me for more, faster, deeper, harder. And you push up or down or sideways to get what you want. Me fucking you."

"Stop." He says weakly.

"And you get red all over like you are now. You get hard like you are now. And you kiss me the way you want to be fucked, fast and furious or slow and sensual-"

"Okay. Okay. Okay." He gasps, gently dislodges my foot from him and crawls over to me. He straddles my lap and kisses me. Slow and sensual.

He looks at me with those sexy eyes of his and whispers warm air in my direction,

"Fuck me."

And that is when we both hear it; a clang just outside the Jacuzzi room. I push Stephen off me so that he falls into the water with a splash then stand up, hard on and all, quickly wrapping myself in a white complimentary bath towel. I can't see anyone in the darkness of the room. I hop out and peek my head outside looking left and right.

"Brendan." Stephen says anxiously while still sitting in the water.

"Did you hear that?" I say in panic.

"Yes, but it was probably just something falling."

I look at him as if he is thick. "Because that is what objects do. They fall for no good reason."

He tries to stay calm. "What I mean is that there is no way it could be anyone else. I locked us in, didn't I?"

What he says makes sense. I look down at him and can't help but relax at his reassuring smile.

"Yeah." I say reluctantly then slip my towel off and sit back into the warm water joining him again.

His grin broadens and he comes up to me.

"Now, where were we?"

...

Part II to come...


	19. Chapter 18b

**This is a long chapter. I crammed quite a lot in. P.S. The first bit may be a little too graphic for some. Scroll down to the first -0-0- if you think that's you...! To everyone else, enjoy!**

**PART 2 OF 2**

"Now, where were we?" Stephen whispers and crawls up to me. He stops in front of me, kneeling between my spread-eagled legs and places his hands on my shoulders. I run a single finger up his chest until it leaves his skin just under his Adam's apple only to land just under his chin.

"Come 'ere." I murmur and I use that finger to guide him to me until our lips meet softly then I pull away to stare into pools of blue. Dilated pupils and eyes full of emotion look right back at me, unapologetic, unwavering, open and honest. How does he do that? Suck me in, I mean.

Make me feel like the world around us doesn't matter; other people's opinion doesn't matter.

Make me rethink and reconsider firmly held beliefs.

Make me want to do something stupid; say something stupid right now as I look into those eyes.

I'm being serious. I want to know because this has never happened before. I have never been like this with anyone. Never. I've not allowed myself to. So how the fuck has he managed to break down my defences and made me feel like this?

"What?" He asks in concern, a hair's breath away from me when I caress his cheek softly. He shuffles in closer and looks down at my arms so I follow suit.

Goose pimples.

"You cold?" He asks.

No I'm not.

I want to say something cocky like, _'Yeah. Because ye are taking all day to get things warmed up in here.'_

But it is a lame comeback and I seem to have lost my ability to speak for a second so instead I nod.

"Same." He says and sits on my lap wrapping himself easily around me with his gangly limbs helped by the slip and slide of the water between us.

And we kiss. Slow and sensual because that is how he started it. And it feels like the ebb and flow of the ocean. I map out his back and he tangles his tongue with mine. He fingers the short hairs near the nape of my neck and I nibble his lower lip. I groan as he gyrates subconsciously against my groin and he sighs when I cup his buttocks encouraging him nearer still. And we stop and stare before we kiss again, only this time harder. Fast and furious. Ebb and flow. His hands are insistent, cupping my cheeks, locking me in; mouth to mouth. And my hands are insistent, gripping his hips, thrusting against him. His dick is trapped, smoothly gliding between our bodies with each upward push of me against him. Mine is rubbed every time he grinds himself down against me.

Things are heating up.

And he whimpers and I get it. He is frustrated. So am I because we are intertwined. We are so close and yet so far. Our bodies are nearly one. Ebb and flow. Just me and him.

He wants me in him.

So he resorts to non-verbal persuasion. He moves his lips down my jaw line and towards my neck peppering small wet kisses along the way, and then he tongues me there until I can't stand it. He gives me a smile that is somewhere between horny and shy. Cheeky fucker. He thinks his come on is working. I look at his body as it is draped around mine. It is a weapon of seduction not to be messed with.

"I'm feeling warmer now." He whispers into my ear.

"Yeah." I groan. I'd say we are infernal.

I wrap my hand around his dick underwater and start pumping. He is rock hard, turned on because of me. He throws his head back and moans loudly. I love when he gets like this, uninhibited.

"Bren!" He gasps. "Yes!" And automatically pushes our lips together in encouragement. Does he think this is it? He has another thing coming, excuse the pun. I have plans.

"Ye like that?"

"Yeah." He drags out.

I dip my head down to give one of his nipples a bite.

"Ouch!"

"Ye look good enough to eat." I murmur and then kiss it better.

And I should be annoyed that I am throwing out cheesy sentimental bullshit but when Stephen smiles like he has just been told he won the lottery, I don't care. I like seeing him this happy.

He climbs off me and a wall of cold hits me when his body heat is gone.

"Where are ye going?" I ask trying not to make it sound like, _'There is no way ye are leaving me with this boner and no solution.'_

He leans outside the Jacuzzi to where our clothes are and rummages in his jeans pocket. He turns back round to me and shows me a condom packet and single use lube sachet.

I raise an eyebrow. He places them into my palm and kisses my shoulder in a curiously gentle way. Then he turns around and bends over so that his chest rests over the edge of the Jacuzzi, arse facing me, before cocking his head round to give me those bedroom eyes that he does so well.

Fuck me; I think I just got harder.

But I am not going to let his little move make me act like a dog with a bone... can't seem to control the puns.

So I tease him. I use everything I know, fucking with him before fucking him. My lips, my tongue, my teeth, my hands. They all work on his long neck, tense shoulders, arching back and firm arse. I make him moan, shiver, purr, whimper, groan, sigh with my unrelenting caresses. Stephen's sweet torture.

I want him to beg for it. It will make me feel, if only for one moment, that I have some level of control here. Because deep down I suspect I don't; that he holds all the cards in this thing that we share.

I rub him there. Yeah. _There_. If you had overheard Gym Bunny's sex education talk at the club you would definitely know what I was talking about. I smile when he groans and pushes back against my fingers but I don't increase my actions so he gets impatient.

"Brendan!" He whines.

"Yes?" A bit of lube now ... _there_ ... and he relaxes a little. So very close.

"Please..." He drags the word out as I prepare him. "Now."

That begging is my undoing. Enough with the power games. Now is a time for fucking.

"So bossy." I mutter.

I roll the condom on and line up. Stephen hitches a breath that he releases as I penetrate him slowly. He is tight and fucking hot. When I am in deep and flush against him I pull him into a kiss that is a little awkward given our positions but still everything a kiss should be; full of passion and need.

Then I whisper, "Ready?"

He pushes back into me and moans, interlinking his hands with mine on the edge of the large tub.

I'll take that as a yes then.

And we continue our journey, me thrusting languidly into him and him pushing back against me. I let him set the pace tonight. He wants it slow and intense so I give him long languid thrusts. He pulls me into him with his hand on my hip. We kiss, link hands and caress. Water meets sweat eventually. This is play that consumes energy. But I can't keep my control forever. I am not superman, so I up the tempo and plunge into him like there is no tomorrow and he goes with it. His sounds are making me go crazy and I want to see his face so I pull out.

"Turn over." I demand and he climbs onto the edge of the Jacuzzi and lies down on his back. I push his legs up and get back to it but this time I appreciate every expression he makes. The way he tries to keep his eyes open to look at me but can't at times as he finds it all too overwhelming.

Fuck.

I feel a pressure beginning to build in my groin. I don't let it overcome me until I know that Stephen is right there with me. I hit that spot in him that makes him whimper with need. I know I make him feel good because he says,

"That feels so good, Bren!"

Then he starts to jerk off and makes those short sharp exhaling sounds that signal the beginning of the end. So I let myself go and cum hard and Stephen climaxes beneath me.

I collapse onto him and when my breathing evens out a little I leisurely push hair off his forehead and kiss any part of him that I can reach as I get all boneless and tired. I wrap my arms around him and we stay like that for a moment but it can't be comfortable for him, being squashed to the side of a Jacuzzi by a sweaty, exhausted Irishman. Pity because I can't move right now and he isn't complaining.

I could stay right here forever, I tell ye.

-0-0-

The next day, I wake up in a brilliant mood but it soon dampens when I realise that I have lost my watch. I left it at _Look Sharpe_ yesterday so I am on my way there this morning to find it even though Stephen has assured me that he can't find it anywhere.

I am anxious. I am getting careless with Stephen. He is turning my brain to foam and I am getting paranoid. Where the fuck is my watch? I can't help thinking about that clang we heard when we were in the Jacuzzi fooling around. But there was no one there, right? So no one could have stolen my watch, right? So it must be at _Look Sharpe._ I need to find it for peace of mind.

Then I have to call Paddy. He wasn't home when I got in last night from my _rendez_v_ous_ with Stephen. The last time I saw him, he was drunk as shit at the club. I wouldn't be surprised if he ended up hooking up with someone. He has always been good at picking up transient bed partners and even better at ditching them the next morning.

"Brendan!"

I continue to walk.

"Brendan!"

I stop and turn around.

"Brendan!"

"What?" I say in annoyance as Mitzeee teeters her way to me on impossibly high heels.

"I don't appreciate being ignored." She says when she stops in front of me. "Not when I am wearing Louboutins."

"What do you want?"

"Nothing." She says. "Oh wait. Now I remember. A boyfriend! That is what I want."

"Are we playing that tape again?" I say in a bored tone.

"Yes we are because widows see more of their husbands than I am seeing of you. It makes a mockery of our deal, Brendan. I am not happy and I'm starting to get frown lines. See."

She points at her eyes.

"We go out to dinner. I buy you flowers. I'm supporting yer charity thing." I point out.

She glares at me. "Two meals out in four weeks and wilted roses don't scream 'ideal boyfriend'. People are starting to look at me with pity."

"Your point?" I say tiredly.

She sniffs at me and scrunches her nose then continues, "Where were you last night?"

"Out with friends."

"I came round to the club to see you and bumped into Mr. O'Sexy."

That is Mitzeee's nickname for Patrick.

I break a cold sweat. "Oh?"

She narrows her eyes. "He was surprised to see me. He said you had told him we were planning a quiet night in together at my place and that you had left to meet me."

"Right." I say, trying to think fast. Shit. I never imagined the two of them would meet. My lie is exposed.

"So I pretended that I thought we were meeting at the club first." She says.

I breathe a sigh of relief. "Good. Good."

She narrows her eyes at me. "What are you covering up, Brendan? Where were you really? And don't insult my intelligence."

"Like I said, I was with friends." I say calmly.

She glowers at me. "What is it? Some dodgy dealing?"

"Me? Never."

"Wait! Have you finally got some new boy on the side since Weasel face dumped you?" She narrows her eyes at me and keeps her voice low.

I glare at her and don't bother answering.

"What about Patrick?" She raises an eyebrow and I look blankly at her. "He has come over all the way from Ireland to see you."

I look bored. "Do ye have a point to make?"

"Mr O'Sexy is very sexy indeed _and_ sleeps in your room which is convenient." She smiles.

"Fuck off." I say. "Me and Paddy?" I laugh but I know it sounds forced. "Funny. Really."

"Hey, don't laugh! He gave me the impression you had history yesterday."

She raises an eyebrow to punctuate her meaning.

My laughter dies.

"What?"

"At the club. He bought me and those lads that Ste hangs around drinks. Riley, Noah and Doug. Ethan walked off for some reason. Anyway, he is a catch, Brendan. You could do a lot worse."

My mouth goes dry.

I grip her forearm tightly as panic sets in. "What did you tell him?"

"Brendan! You are hurting me!" She gasps and tries to free her arm.

I release her immediately.

"Speak!" I say anxiously.

"Nothing. He asked a bunch of questions, though."

"About?"

"About everything. Where to hang out in Hollyoaks and Chester. People we know. He was dead interested in Ste and Noah. He asked Noah what all the drama was about on that lad's night out you had in Chester. You know, when you bumped into Ste and Noah."

_Realto_ night.

"Keep talking." I hiss.

"I told him you guys had longstanding beef but that I didn't know why. But I know that it is because you were a jealous little puppy when Noah was dating Ste."

"You should stop reading romance novels." I say. "Did you tell Patrick anything about Stephen and me?"

She looks at me peculiarly. "Why would I? He is in your past."

"Yeah." I say. "He is."

"It still stings, huh? Ste leaving you. Why is it such a big deal for your best friend from home to not know about you and Ste? Don't tell me that Mr. O'Sexy is another Irish homophobic closet-case."

"Look, yer what-do-they-call-it, 'gaydar' needs fixing, sweet cheeks. Paddy is a pussy magnet."

"He's straight?"

"Bingo."

And I walk away leaving my fake girlfriend ruminating over her preconceived ideas.

-0-0-

I walk into _Look Sharpe_ and spot Stephen on reception.

_Don't look at me like that_, I think as I walk up to him.

"Hi Brendan." He says through those fan-like lashes, looking fucking hot as hell and ... tired. I feel like beating my chest, Tarzan-style. I've caused those bags under his eyes. It was a long hard night, pun intended.

"Hi."

"What are you doing here?" He asks. He looks around. There are no other staff members around and a couple of gym goers walk past us. He leans over the desk and drops his voice, "I thought we had decided we wouldn't visit each other's place of work."

"Ye didn't seem to have a problem with it yesterday." I whisper.

He blushes. His mouth parts slightly and he licks his lower lip. He is remembering. "That was out of hours."

I get my one track mind back on track.

"I've come to find my watch."

"I told you I looked everywhere and couldn't find it."

"Then where is it?"

"I don't know. Why is it so important, Bren? It's just a watch."

I round the desk and get up next to him. "Because I think someone was here last night, Stephen. I'm sure of it. And whoever it was saw us and took my watch!"

Stephen takes my hand in his under the table. "Stop being paranoid. No one saw us. I'm sure the watch will show up and we'll be laughing."

I free my hand from his just as I hear someone behind me,

"Brendan, only staff is allowed behind the desk."

I turn around to see Noah looking between Ste and me as we stand practically chest to chest.

"Is he bothering you, Ste?"

Stephen shakes his head. "N-n-no."

I give Noah a smile and walk back round to the other side of the desk.

"Gym Bunny, good morning." I say.

"Are you here to join the gym?"

"No."

He replaces me by Stephen's side and places a hand on his shoulder. Why doesn't Stephen shrug him off?

_Take your hands off him_.

"Bren was just telling me that he saw you and the lads at _Chez Chez_ yesterday." Stephen says.

Nice cover, Stephen!

"Yeah, I was going to invite you but I figured you'd probably say no after everything."

The silence fills in what Noah means; him and Ste breaking up. "You didn't miss much, anyway. I got to know Bren's mate, Paddy, though. He is a funny guy. Piss drunk yesterday."

Stephen looks at me and I know why. He is wondering why I have told him that my childhood friend is evil when everyone in town sees Patrick as a charming cheeky chappy.

"I haven't really spoken to him." Stephen says. I can tell he is curious.

_No chance, son. I'll do everything in my power to keep you two apart_, I think to myself.

The silence that extends between the three of us is awkward. I am about to say something smart and make my exit when Noah says.

"We may as well talk about the elephant in the room since we are all here now."

"You what?" Ste says.

I frown.

Noah looks at me. "Look we both dated Ste, yeah."

Stephen's jaw drops and he goes red again.

"Where are you going with this?" Stephen mumbles looking down at the floor.

Noah ignores him and talks to me. "Now I don't know exactly what happened between you two, Brendan, but I know you hurt him. You fucked with him and his feelings."

He goes quiet as a customer approaches and Stephen quickly deals with her.

"Why are we talking about this?" I say feeling my hands ball into fists.

When we are alone again Noah continues,

"Because I smell something fishy. Ste told me that you weren't committed, that you were in the closet. You don't want anyone to know who you really are; a cock-loving, boy-kissing queer."

In a snap I lean over the table and grab his collar in both my fists and pull him to me so that my face is in his.

"Say one more word, I dare ye!" I sneer.

"Brendan!" Stephen tries to pull us apart in vain.

"I am not scared of you, Brendan." Noah whispers calmly.

"Ye should be."

"You hate us, don't you? You hate gay people but worse than that, you hate that you are one of us."

I curl my fists tighter around his shirt collar.

"I don't." I whisper.

"Yes. That is why you lash out. It's called queer bashing, Brendan."

"This has nothing to do with ye being gay. It's because ye are a jerk."

"That interior designer was gay. Macca was gay. I am gay. You've beat us all up."

Stephen and I look at him in disbelief.

"How do you know about Macca?" Stephen asks him.

"I've been digging into your ex-boyfriend's past. Now I am thinking; why would he break a habit of a lifetime?"

"What do ye mean?" I ask.

"You beat Ste up, didn't you?"

That tick in my right cheek comes back with a vengeance. I am so stunned by what Noah says that I drop my hand and take a shaky step back from the reception desk.

I look over at Stephen and I see tears forming in his eyes. He rubs them roughly when they start to track down his cheeks.

Why can't the past stay in the past?

Why did Noah have to bring that up?

I know that I was violent towards Stephen but I hate the person I was then. It is not who I am now, I swear. It was the monster I once was.

"Fucking hell." Noah whispers. "You actually did. Was it when you were together?" He stares incredulously between the two of us.

Ste stares blankly at us with bloodshot, watery eyes.

"I can't do this." He whispers and walks out of reception towards the staff room.

"Stephen." I call out and begin to make my way after him.

"No, Brendan." Noah blocks the way. "I don't even know what you are doing here but I will not let you harass him anymore, you hear?"

My heart is breaking.

"I am not harassing him, ye eejit!"

Noah's eyes widen as he looks at my face. He shakes his head in disbelief.

"Fuck me!" He whispers. "You love him."

I push him aside and get to the door but when I try to open it I realise Stephen has locked himself in.

"Let me in, Stephen, please. Let's talk." I say, leaning my head against the door, palms flat against its surface. Then I try to open it again with more force. "Fuck's sake!"

I bang my fist against it. When I turn around, I see gym punters staring at me while they wait by the reception desk. Where did they come from? I realise that I am making a scene so I clear my throat, adjust my leather jacket and smooth my 'tache.

Then I turn to Noah and I say,

"Tell young Stephen to give me a call later, yeah?"

"Die." He replies before starting to deal with the customers for Stephen.

-0-0-

I spend the whole evening and night in the office of the club. I don't feel like mingling. I feel like my world is caving in. Everything that Noah said was right. I present myself as a slick Rick with a hot girlfriend on my arm. But the truth is that I like fucking men; one in particular. A lot. But I also like being with him. He calms me down. He makes me feel like the dog's bollocks.

But I deny this fact to the world.

My secrets have made me live in constant fear of being caught out by those who don't know and being blackmailed by the increasing number who do.

My secrets have hurt those I care about.

But most importantly, my secrets have hurt the one person who means more to me than I ever thought possible.

It takes a lot of energy to live a lie. It ages you and tires you out. It makes you start to question who you really are; why you even bother.

It is making me think that maybe life would be easier if Stephen and I stood in the middle of the _Dog_ or the club and kissed each other's faces off until there was no doubt in anyone's mind that we were together. Then maybe I wouldn't have to bear seeing him the way he was this morning. His silent tears broke me.

I close my eyes and lean back in my chair. I picture me and Chez and Stephen and maybe even Foxy having Sunday lunch in a pub. Maybe he leans over to give me a cheeky kiss. And maybe it is okay even though it is in front of the fantastic Mr. Fox.

"Brendan."

I open my eyes.

Patrick looks at me strangely from the door. Oh yeah, I didn't tell you earlier but he turned up this evening in his clothes from last night and told me that he ended up at some college dorm yesterday and had a night with two chicks that, and I quote,

'_Hugh Hefner would have been proud of!'_

"What's up, mate?" I ask.

"Nothing. Ye were grinning like an eejit when I walked in."

"Was I?"

He nods. "Why aren't ye out there with us?"

I pick up some sheets from the desk. "Paperwork."

"With your eyes closed? Impressive."

"Ain't it?"

"Look, ye know ye can tell me anything, don't ye? Friends from womb to tomb, yeah?" He says.

"Yeah."

"Problems with yer bird?"

"Who?"

"That bad." He says sympathetically, steps in and shuts the door. "Or maybe it is something or someone else."

"Mitzeee was born to be a ball ache." I say. "But things are good between us."

"Cool."

I sigh. "I think I need a break."

"Yeah?" Paddy says. "Then let's go somewhere this weekend."

Didn't see that coming.

I was thinking about Stephen and me getting away from all this shit if only for a bit. We could get away from the Noahs, Paddys, Foxys, Mitzeees, Raes and Amys of the world. I could get us some last minute tickets and whisk him off somewhere; make him smile. It could be a surprise.

"Maybe. Actually, I have a bit of business in Barcelona this weekend. I could mix a little work and play." I say quickly.

"Barcelona? Ye still dealing with Javier and Enrique?"

"Sometimes. They get me good stuff. I trust them." I say.

"Tell them 'hi'."

"I will."

"So are ye coming out?"

I nearly jump out of my seat. "What?"

"I'll buy ye a drink at the bar."

"Oh. Yeah. Yeah."

Fuck! I thought it was as if he had somehow read my thoughts before he came into the office.

"In a minute. I've got a couple of calls to make."

"Okay."

When he is gone I get down to business.

Call number one.

"Enrique, como estas amigo? Venga, necesito una coartada." _Enrique, how's it going, mate? Look, I need an alibi._

Call number two.

"Dougie-boy!"

"Brendan." He replies dully.

"Don't get too excited." I say sarcastically.

"I was wondering when you were going to start hassling me again. It has been a while." He says.

"Miss me?"

"Like I miss my kidney stone."

I laugh. "Look. This favour is harmless enough. Ye have done a fair bit of travel, haven't ye? I need ye to tell me somewhere nice to go for a weekend."

There is silence for a while. "That's it?"

"Yes."

"I don't get it."

"Just tell me where is nice to go for a bit of rest and relaxation."

"Okay. Well you haven't got long so I'd suggest the British Isles or Europe. You could do Europe." He starts getting more animated.

"Yeah. Europe." I say. There is virtually no chance of bumping into people we know. "And not Spain."

"Let me think." He says. "Is this with Mitzeee? You thinking of something romantic?"

"Uh."

"Yeah. Romantic." He says without waiting for my reply. "You've got to go with Paris, Venice or Rome. Yeah, Rome! Go there. It is really nice this time of year. I took a girl there last year and we had a ball. You can experience it the way you want. You've got the tourist thing if that's your bag. You can go on pilgrim. You're Catholic, right?"

"Guilty."

Okay, so in the strictest adherence to the church's doctrine, I would be thrown out and rot in hell for what I plan to do in Rome with Stephen.

"Or you can go to the beach just out of town. It is called Ostia. There's a nudist beach somewhere there if you are into that kind of thing."

"I'm not."

"Right. Oh! Mitzeee will love Via Condotti. It is near the Spanish steps and is lined with designer boutiques like Gucci, Ferragamo, Armani, you name it. Or you can do the gourmet wine tasting and fine dining thing. Or you can lock yourselves up in a five star hotel and get buck wild for two days straight!"

The last two things appeal. Food and sex. Nice.

"Do you have any hotel names?"

"Am I Irish-American?" He replies. "You will not regret a stay at Hotel San Lorenzo. Flashy, central and with service to die for."

"Good." I say. "I need you to book it for me."

Call done.

Call number three.

The phone rings and rings until I hear his voice, soft and broken.

"I haven't found your watch, Brendan."

"That is not why I am calling."

"Oh."

"How are ye feeling?" I ask, wanting to reach out to him over the phone line.

"Like shit."

"Same." I say honestly.

"Really?"

"Yeah." I take a deep breath in and then let it out slowly. "Stephen."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry." I can't hear anything at the other end for a while so I panic. "Stephen?"

"Yeah?" He whispers. Thank God. I thought he put the phone down on me.

"I would never-" I swallow a lump of emotion. "-I would never, ever do what I did to ye again. Ye have to believe me."

I know he is crying even though he is silent.

I say, "I was fucked up back then. It was my problem, my fault. I turned my problems on ye. I'm sorry."

"I know, Bren. I know. I've been there remember, with Amy. I just don't like being reminded of it. The past is the past. We should concentrate on now and the future. "

I nod even though he can't see.

"Can I see you tomorrow at lunch?" I ask.

"But we have seen each other three days in a row." He says.

"I know." I reply. "It is not enough."

-0-0-

I think you will agree that I have been taking baby steps in the right direction. Let's gloss over the occasional fail. I have acknowledged who I am to myself and Stephen. I have begun to be more emotionally open with him.

Our weekend in Rome was good and I know he has told you about it so I won't repeat the details. What I will say is that something happened while we were out there. Another baby step.

I stopped thinking about things as individuals. Stephen. Brendan. I started seeing us as a unit. Us. I have never had that before. Yeah, even when I was married. Ironic, isn't it, when you consider that marriage is supposed to symbolise the official binding of individuals into one entity. Eileen was my wife but I could separate myself from her emotionally and physically without feeling like I was being ripped to shreds.

With Stephen, I feel a comfort in knowing he is there. In Rome I began to find it difficult to imagine us apart. I could see the sense in waking up with him every day and sharing my bed with him at night. It seemed natural to have a debate about who was taking the bill when we dined out. It felt acceptable to walk through the streets of Rome together chatting about everything and nothing. Well, mostly he talked and I laughed or occasionally rolled my eyes.

When I erase him from my memories and my future, I feel like a part of me is being torn away.

He carries a bit of me with him and I like to think that he carries a bit of me with him.

So coming back to Hollyoaks on Sunday feels like a fuck you to the person I was trying to be for Stephen in Rome. As I drop him off on the corner of his street I feel my self-made shackles wrap themselves around me once again. Brendan Brady, trapped by lies and secrets.

I get home and when Paddy is not around, I unpack my things. I take out the hotel brochure that the receptionist, Chiara, gave me. I skim my fingers over the glossy surface and something slips out of it and to the floor.

I pick up what is a picture of Stephen and me in our hotel room on our first night in Rome. He didn't tell you that he was snap happy that weekend, did he? He was. The picture is not the best, what with being unfocussed and at a funny angle but it is spontaneous because at the time he was trying to kiss me and I was playing hard to get. He took the picture when he finally managed to get his lips to the corner of mine. I remember scowling but in the picture I barely recognise myself because I have the biggest fucking grin I have ever seen in my life. And I think I look younger and less troubled than I imagine myself.

I turn it over and read his message.

_This is the man I love,_

_xxx Stephen_

I put it and the brochure into the safe box in the bottom drawer of my chest of drawers.

-0-0-

On Monday, I take the day off work. I call Stephen early and we make plans to have a repeat of our first night at _Look Sharpe_ at the end of the day.

Then I behave like a good boyfriend. Paddy and I help Mitzeee with last minute preparations for her fashion show at the _SUBAR_. The show is next week in the town hall. She still won't say what the charity is but then again, I wouldn't be surprised if it was 'Buy Mitzeee a Balenciaga' fund.

I am surprised and sceptical when Noah, Riley and Doug show up for a dry run of the catwalk show. They haven't volunteered since the day I thumped Noah. I wonder why they are offering their services once again until I see them stride up to Paddy and exchange a mixture of handshakes, high fives and chest bumps. Looks like he is their new buddy.

Riley and Noah barely acknowledge me. Fuck them.

Dougie says, "How was Rome, guys? Did you like the hotel?"

He throws a broad smile at Mitzeee and me.

"Rome?" Mitzeee asks.

I shoot him down with a withering look and shake my head almost imperceptibly.

"Yeah." He says slowly. "I'm sorry. It's a figure of speech." He looks at me with confusion.

"For what?" Riley asks.

"Oh, you know..." Doug is sweating. For a petty criminal, the kid cracks under pressure easier than a five year old girl. "'How was Rome' means 'how was the weekend'."

"I've never heard that." Paddy says cocking his head to one side.

"Yeah." Douglas wipes his brow. "It's from the south, you know, of Texas. Small town, you wouldn't know it."

"Brendan went to Barcelona." Paddy says. "Business."

Mitzeee nods.

Doug looks at me in confusion because he made a reservation for a double room at Hotel San Lorenzo, Rome, under the name Brady.

"Right. Did you have a productive trip?" He asks.

"Si, gracias." I say.

"Okay, chaps! Let's get this show on the road." Mitzeee asks.

"What time is it?" Paddy asks and looks at me.

I look down and remember that I am watch-less. I look back at him. He is smiling.

Why?

"Time to get started, mate." Noah says. "I need to be at work by 12."

"Keep your knickers on, hot stuff." My 'girlfriend' says and then laughs. "Actually, you know what, don't!"

And she winks at him.

-0-0-

At 10.25 pm I approach _Look Sharpe_ and already something feels wrong.

The lights are still on and the door is open. The reception area looks empty though. My heart starts beating frantically. This is not how Stephen and I planned our rendezvous.

The gym was supposed to look closed and unoccupied. My text as I got close should have prompted Stephen to unlock the door for me so I could sneak in unnoticed.

Something is very wrong.

As I get to the door I see Stephen through the floor to ceiling windows. He is speaking to someone. A guy. My immediate reaction is jealousy and then I notice who it is and my heart drops.

Paddy.

_"He hasn't told you, has he?"_

I throw myself flush against a brick pillar wall of the building to hide myself and look through at them. What the fuck is Paddy doing here and how did he know to find Stephen here?

_"There is nothing to say."_ Stephen sounds guarded. I feel a knot in my stomach forming.

_"I bet he told ye that I am a bad guy. Someone not to be trusted, right? But he is the one with the secret and I think you might want to know the kind of man you are involved with."_

_"We are not 'involved'."_

_"Keep denying it if you want."_

I am stunned. Paddy knows about us. About me. I want to turn around and run. But I can't for Stephen.

_"Has he told ye about how Pete got into his wheelchair? Maybe you should sit down for this, Ste."_

I walk in quickly and shut the door behind me. Ste and Paddy jump in shock.

"Fuck, Bren!" Paddy says gripping his chest. "Ye nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"What are ye doing here?" I ask.

He smiles and looks at Stephen. "I could ask ye the same thing."

"Ye know why I am here." I say. There no point denying it. "How did ye know?"

"That ye were sticking yer dick in Ste?" He smiles. "Ye must be getting sloppy in yer old age. Ye were dropping hints all over the place. One: seeing ye and Stephen in the restrooms of that Italian restaurant. Two: yer strange behaviour towards his boyfriend. Then I needed hard evidence."

Stephen looks at him with realisation and he goes a deep shade of red. "You've got Brendan's watch."

"Well done, Ste. Full marks." Patrick tosses my watch at me.

I feel sick at the thought that he saw us like that.

"Ste, you can really take it! Better than most of the chicks I've fucked. I didn't know where to look!"

Stephen hides his face behind his hands. "Shit."

"Ye certainly earned that little trip to Rome, didn't ye? Bet ye couldn't sit for days."

"Enough, you dick!" I shout.

"How do you know about Rome?" Stephen whispers quietly.

"Doug let it slip this morning at the _SUBAR_."

"How does he know?" Stephen asks me.

"I asked him to book the hotel." I admit.

Paddy says, "Then I raided Bren's stuff. 'This is the man I love, love Stephen'." He puts on a sappy voice. "I know ye are gay, but that message was _really_ gay."

"Leave him alone, yeah?" I hiss at him. "Or so help me God, you will pray for death to end the suffering I will give ye."

"And ye, Brendan. I can't believe I never saw it before. My childhood friend. Gay. Fucking hell! Now I understand why you kept Stephen away from me."

Stephen looks sick. "I can't believe you saw us."

"I want ye gone, Paddy. I want ye out of Hollyoaks by tomorrow morning. I don't know what ye are playing at here but I don't like it."

"I am not playing at anything. Ye are the one with the lies and secrets. Nobody likes ye in this town, Bren. Nobody! And the only two people that do, yer sis and Stephen here, don't even know who ye really are. So I thought I'd let them know."

It is as if my heart stops beating. "Ye told Chez?"

"Yeah, just like I am about to tell Ste. She had a lot of questions about us and Pete. It was rude not to answer them."

Something snaps in me and I go for him, guys. No mercy, just pure animal instinct. I start punching and keep going. I feel his hands extending out to me when he falls to the floor trying to stop the onslaught of hits. And I feel hands behind me pulling me back and they are strong and persistent and accompanied by a voice,

"Brendan! Stop! On my God, stop!"

And I do because that is the power Stephen has over me. I look down at my raw red knuckles and Paddy's bruised face and I stand up and move away from him.

He mumbles through swollen lips with venom. "Yer sister deserved to know that ye fuck men."

He looks at Stephen. "Boys."

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and sees the blood on it. He stands up, gripping his side gingerly.

"Tell him what happened, Bren. Or I will."

Stephen looks at me with dread.

Paddy may be the one with bruises but I'm the one left with a life in tatters as he walks out of the _Look Sharpe_.


	20. Chapter 19

**The Chapter With The Truth.**

**A foreword- Now that I have written it, it does seem a little anti-climactic. **

**Sorry...**

**...**

When Paddy limps out of the gym, Brendan looks at me with dead eyes. They are so different to the ones I started to see in Rome. Those were playful and light. They reflected the Brendan I love.

Now he looks like a broken shell, damaged and exposed.

We stand on opposite sides of the room, leaning on walls, divided by the massage bench. The room has a look that is designed to bring calm but there is tension in the air that you could slice with a knife.

"You have an anger management problem." I say quietly and cross my arms around me tightly; like giving myself a hug.

"Ye think?" Bren looks at his red and raw knuckles.

"Yeah." I whisper. "You need to sort that out."

He looks me in the eye, no wavering. "Why change a habit of a lifetime?"

I push myself off the wall, walk around the bench and sit on it facing him. "Because I don't think you like being like this. You scare me when you lose control."

"Do you worry that I'll hit you?" He asks.

I want to say no but then I get vivid memories of Brendan's fists connecting with my body; my ribs, face and stomach. I remember him pulling my hair, gripping and twisting my arms, biting my skin in aggression until it bled. I remember bruised skin, split lips, puffy cheeks, broken bones and feeling sore everywhere.

The crazy thing is that while the physical injuries were agony they were nothing compared to the emotional pain; knowing that I had misjudged the person I loved once again. Feeling like he found me undesirable, disgusting, ugly, a pervert, a nobody, a nothing.

Even worse was hating myself because afterwards all he needed to do was show me the smallest amount of care, attention and affection and I was back in the arms that hurt me.

"Yes." I say. "Yes, I am scared of you when you get angry. I can't always read your mood."

I exhale. There it is. I have admitted it.

He nods.

I feel so weak. I know I am going to sound like a typical domestic violence victim but I feel like I deserve it sometimes. His fists, I mean. Not because I did something wrong or anything but because I keep coming back to Brendan expecting things to be different when I should have the common sense to know that they won't be.

Like right now. Up until now all was good. But there is always something around the corner waiting to mess things up. And when Brendan senses trouble on the horizon he feels out of control and unsettled and he needs an outlet; a pressure valve. Me.

Occasionally it is through talking. Usually it is through sex. Sometimes it is through beatings.

"Why do ye keep coming back to me, Stephen?"

"Because I love you." I say, and I know I am fucked up in the head because who falls in love with their attacker?

"You just said I scare you." He says.

"Yeah, I know." I whisper.

"Then ye are a bigger eejit than I thought. Ye need yer head checking." He looks at me. "I don't know what ye want from me but ye are not going to get it."

"I think I know you better than anyone else."

He nods briefly and slides slowly to the floor in front of me, sitting cross-legged.

"Maybe." He whispers.

I stare at the top of his head as he looks down at the floor.

"What do you mean?"

"Nobody really knows me; how fucked up I can get." He says.

My mouth goes dry and my heart speeds up. I don't think I am ready to hear him.

"Stephen. I am going to tell you a story and I want ye to listen. And after, I want ye to walk away from me and I don't want ye to ever come back."

"Brendan." I protest.

"Just listen."

And I shut up.

-0-0-

_**Dublin, Summer 2000. Brannigan's Pub.**_

Pete and I are sitting at the bar with our drinks in front of us at his dad's pub in the centre of the city. It is bustling as usual on a Saturday night but my closest friends and me are getting special treatment. The drinks tonight are free to celebrate my farewell.

"I can't believe ye are off to Belfast next week." Pete says shaking his head before he takes a big swig of his lager. "Ye are a Dublin boy."

"Aye." I say and knock back my shot of whiskey. I am really putting the drinks away tonight because I can't believe I am going either. Dublin is in my veins. It is part of who I am. "I'll miss the city."

I look at my best friend. I'll miss him too.

We have been through it all. Ups and downs. Highs and lows. Peter has always been there by my side for as long as I can remember; a constant when my family life was in chaos. He has provided sanctuary for me in the flat above the pub that he shares with his dad when my father has decided to teach me an alcohol-fuelled 'lesson'. He has tried, time and again, to keep me on the straight and narrow. He has never apologised for telling me I am an eejit when I have fucked up and gotten up to no good. But he has also been there to pick up the pieces.

Less patient friends would have given up on someone like me. I am a trouble maker. But not Pete.

I guess that is why I like him so much.

That and the fact that he has drive. Peter has grown up with a bunch of low-lives, me included, as friends and yet he remains focused. At 20 years old, a year younger than I am, he is about to graduate from Trinity with honours and his crazy feet mean that he was an obvious choice for midfielder for the university's football team. If a professional career in the beautiful game doesn't work out for him, I have no doubt that he will land on his feet with whatever career he chooses.

"I don't know why ye need to move with yer family." Pete continues. "Ye are yer own man now."

I nudge him. "I thought ye'd be proud. I'm going to make a legitimate living by going into business with dad. And anyway Cheryl's mum wants us to move closer to her family."

"Fair enough." He says. "I'll miss ye, though. Who am I going to worry about once ye are gone?"

I smile. "Ye'll still worry about me but from further away."

"Right!" He says. "Do ye remember the time we went shopping for suits for school prom?"

I start laughing. "Yeah!"

"It's not funny, Bren!"

"It is!"

"Ye made me an accomplice! We were in that suit shop on Grafton. I think I was looking at ties and suddenly I heard you shout, 'Mate, get yer skates on!' and I saw you running out of the shop dressed in the sweetest new suit and holding another one under yer arm!"

"Ye have to admit, we were the best dressed guys at the dance." I say.

"Yeah maybe." He concedes. "But still, Bren, the suits were stolen!"

"No, if I had it my way they would have been stolen but you had me return them straight after the prom. I call that borrowed."

Pete laughs. "See. That is why I am going to worry about ye. Ye are a live wire."

"I'll try and behave. I promise."

Paddy wonders over to us on unsteady feet and drapes his arms around our shoulders pulling us to his chest.

"What are ye guys talking about?" He asks.

"Reminiscing." Peter says.

"Thinking about the good ol' days." I say.

"Ye are too sober." Patrick declares, slurring. "Get these guys another drink, barkeep!"

"How much have ye had?" I ask. Paddy is leaning heavily on us, using us as support for his unsteady feet.

"I'm fine Bren. I have high tolerance. Me pa put a thimble of Guinness in me bottle when I was a wee _leanbh._"

"What a touching story." Pete scoffs.

"Yeah, I know." He replies and gives me a big kiss on my forehead. "Bren, my brother by another mother, I can't believe ye are going!"

"Ye'd think I was dying or something." I say.

"I'm going to miss ye!" He laughs and then tries pulling me into a hug.

"Fuck off!" I say laughing too and push him off me.

"Come on! Come 'ere! Give me a hug. That 'tache ye are working on is turning me on." He says jokingly as he ruffles my hair. "Ain't it a turn on, lads?"

"Aye." They all say teasingly.

"Laugh all ye want but I am ahead of the curve with this look! It makes me look like a hard man." I make tough guy faces at me mates.

"Nah, it makes ye look like that queer Freddy Mercury, mate!" Anthony says laughing.

"Yeah, that mincing faggot!" Paddy giggles drunkenly.

I laugh uneasily and down the shot of whisky that has magically turned up in front of me. "Maybe that is why both yer mothers were screaming, 'We are the champions' when I fucked them last night'!"

The guys laugh loudly at my come back.

"Alright, lads, gather round!" Paddy shouts and our group of seven young men huddle near the bar. He passes around absinthe shots.

"I'd like to propose a toast." He looks at me. "This is to our mate, wheeler dealer, man about town, lady killer, Brendan. Don't forget yer Dublin roots wherever ye end up, mate."

I smile at them but particularly I look at Peter who is silently holding his shot glass up at me. "I won't. Ever."

"We'll all miss ye." Paddy says genuinely. "To Double B!"

"To Double B!" They shout in unison.

"Thanks guys." I say and we throw back our drinks.

"Let's get him drunk, lads!" Paddy shouts.

"Yeah!"

-0-

"Bren, are ye okay?"

I open my eyes sluggishly. I am sitting in the corner of the pub leaning against the wood panel wall silently begging the room the stop spinning.

I nod slowly and regret it immediately. I get a wave of nausea.

"You look rough." Pete says.

"Drank too much." I slur.

He sits next to me. "Here. Drink this."

"No." I mumble and roll my head onto his shoulder. "Too much alcohol."

"It's water, ye eejit." Peter says kindly.

"Oh." I thirstily down the half pint. "Thanks."

I bury my head in his neck. "Pete, the room is spinning like wow!"

"Maybe ye should rest up."

"Yeah."

He helps carry me upstairs to the flat above the pub and we pass Paddy on way.

"Where are ye going?" He asks.

"I'm getting Bren to bed." Pete says.

"I'm drunk as shit, Paddy!" I slur as I look at him through barely open eyes. I slump against Peter and start to laugh. "Oh look me bessie mates in the whole world are right here!"

"Fuck me he is drunk!" Paddy says in amusement.

"Thanks to ye!" Peter says in annoyance. "He is a shot away from alcohol poisoning."

"Oh fuck off, Pete! Ye need to loosen up." Patrick replies angrily.

"And ye need to start taking life more seriously!"

"Guys. Guys." I slur. "Stop fighting, yeah. Listen to yourselves. Shush. Listen. Ye are both right. Pete, chill out and Paddy, buck up. Ye are like two sides of the same coin and I care for ye both. I want ye to get along, now, ye hear? Because ye are the most important people in me life."

I hiccup and look at them.

They look at each other and begin to laugh.

"That was pretty gay, mate." Paddy says to me.

"It was kind of cheesy." Pete says.

"Fuckoff, ye bastards, that was from the heart." I slur. "I'm going to bed!"

I meander unsteadily towards Pete's room and hear him say,

"I'm going to make sure he is okay."

"Fine. Whatever."

-0-

I am lying on Peter's bed flat on my back staring at the ceiling.

"How are ye feeling?"

"Rough." I whisper.

"Take yer shoes off, Bren. Ye are messing my covers."

I groan and toe my designer shoes off.

"I'm not even going to ask ye where ye got them." Peter says as he flops to lie down next to me. We both contemplate the ceiling.

"Yeah, maybe ye shouldn't." I grin lazily.

We stay quiet for some time.

"I need to tell ye something really important." Pete whispers. God, he sounds so serious.

"What?" I turn to my side facing my best friend and prop myself up on my elbow. "Tell me, mate."

I take in his features.

Fuck the drink has really gotten to me because I am concentrating on his eyes. They are a darker shade of blue than mine. Yeah, I have noticed them before but I guess the alcohol makes me feel like I can stare into them a bit longer now; study the flecks of brown in them. How could I have never noticed that before?

He leans in a little closer to me and I drag my eyes down to his lips. They are slightly parted. I can feel his breath against me.

What does he want to tell me? I feel my heart speed up as my mind goes somewhere I have never allowed it to go before. It goes to a place where I lean forward and let our lips touch and it becomes a show of how deeply I care about Peter.

He grins and says, "Maybe ye should put yer shoes back on, mate. Yer feet stink!"

It takes a moment before his words sink in.

"Motherfecker!" I say laughing and then push him so that he falls back. "They don't!"

He niftily gets onto his knees and gets me into a headlock. Oh, I see. It is on! Let the wrestling begin! We play fight like we have all our lives.

I think of all our tussles we have shared over the years. It hits me as I finally manage to pin him. I am going to miss this guy a lot.

"Okay! Okay, Bren! Get off me. You win!" Pete shouts. He is grinning up at me from ear to ear.

I look down to see that I have pushed him into the bed, straddled him and trapped his wrists with my hands.

"What's the matter, Peter? I've won the last seven bouts. Anyone would think ye weren't trying."

He is the trained athlete with a bigger build. And he isn't as drunk as I am.

"Yeah, well that is because I am too knackered from shagging Bri, ain't I?" He grins.

Oh yeah. Brianna. His girlfriend. She hangs off him like three day old fish stench all the time ever since they got together a few months ago. I am amazed that she allowed him out tonight. She is a possessive little bitch.

"Don't do that face." He says. "I wish ye two would get along."

"She has ye wrapped around her claw."

"Ye mean like ye do." He smiles.

I shrug. I suppose having to share him is difficult especially with that tart.

"She is great, Bren, dead smart, fucking gorgeous and funny. I think she might be the one." He says. "God! Ye are the first person I have admitted that to."

He grins and I feel like punching the shit out of that slapper. I roll off him and lie back next to him.

"And despite what ye might think she gets that ye are like me brother. Me reckless tearaway brother!"

Why is it that when he speaks about her I feel like I am losing him?

I look over at him. "Yeah? Ye see me as yer brother?"

Peter grins at me. "Yeah course. I love ye, mate. Ye know that."

I smile. "I love ye, too."

As those words slip out, I know I don't mean them the way I am supposed to mean them; like a brother loves a brother. I mean something different; wrong, forbidden, unacceptable. But for some reason I am not paying attention to the wrongness of it right now. Instead I smell Pete's aftershave, I absorb his small smile, formed from perfect pink lips. I feel his heat next to me.

"What are ye staring at me like that for?" Pete asks.

"I'm not." I whisper.

"Yeah ye are. Don't puke on my sheets, yeah?" He whispers when he leans in closer to me. In that moment something in my brain misinterprets his move.

Fucking alcohol.

I push my lips against his. Yes. I kiss him; full on the lips.

The minute I do I come to my senses. What the fuck am I doing?

Pete pushes me off him forcefully, jumps off the bed and stares at me wildly.

"What the fuck, Bren!"

My brain freezes. I just kissed my best friend!

This feels like a horrible dream. Ye have probably guessed that I have been suppressing feelings for Peter for some time; for so long that I have practically learned to ignore how I feel. I have never thought to act on them. Until now.

I blame the booze and the realisation that we won't be joined at the hip the way we have been pretty much our whole lives.

"Peter." I mumble and try to walk up to him but stumble drunkenly. I need to explain that this was a mistake and I need him to keep it quiet, like it never happened. That's possible, yeah?

"Ye are gay." He says, stunned.

"No." I say. "No."

"Then what the fuck was that?"

"I-" I don't know what to say. I can't believe this is happening. I wish I could turn back time to before the kiss.

"Shit!" Pete says and paces the room. Then he looks at me. "How long have ye known?"

"I'm not gay, mate." I say quietly.

"Ye have been with girls. We've had each other's seconds. I don't get it." He says, looking at me in shock.

"Pete. Calm down." I say even though I am the one hyperventilating.

"Have ye been with guys?"

"No!"

"Fucking hell!" He walks up to me and whispers. "Why didn't ye tell me, mate?"

Why isn't he listening? He puts a hand reassuringly on my arm.

I get angry then. What gives him the impression I am one of those cocksuckers?

"I am not gay, Peter." I sneer.

"Ye kissed me."

"It didn't mean anything."

"Bren, dudes don't kiss dudes for no reason."

I stay quiet and try to catch my breath.

He takes a deep breath.

"Don't get me wrong. Ye have knocked me sideways with this revelation but it doesn't change the fact that ye are my best friend." He smiles kindly at me and for a second I believe him. Being attracted to guys doesn't change who I am as a person. It is just one of those things.

But then I think of me dad and Paddy and the lads. There is no way that I can be gay in their world. I would be disowned. People would talk, stop and stare. And why? I am not like those pansies. I know how they are seen and treated, like they are the scum of the Earth, deviant, sick, doomed for hell, perverted.

I push Pete's hand off me. I shove him aside forcefully so that he falls to the floor.

"Get your hands off me!" I shout. "I am not fucking gay, ye here!"

I run out of the room and collide straight into Paddy and the beer bottle he is holding in his hand falls to the carpeted floor.

"I came to check up on ye guys." He asks slowly looking between Peter who is getting up from the floor and me. "What is going on?"

"Nothing." I say in panic. I feel like my secret is about to be exposed and it will change everything forever. That cannot happen.

"I heard ye shouting." Paddy says.

Peter sees my alarm and says, "Really, mate, it was nothing."

Paddy pushes me back into the room and closes the door behind him.

"I heard what ye said, Bren."

Fuck.

I back away. "I swear, it was a misunderstanding."

He shoves me aside and strides up to Peter.

"Ye fecking faggot!" He sneers.

"What?" Peter looks at him incredulously.

"I heard Bren. Ye were trying it on with him. He told ye to get your hands off him."

Peter starts to laugh. "Ye have got to be kidding me!"

Patrick licks his lips slowly and I know it is an ominous sign. I silently beg Pete to get the fuck away. Paddy saunters right up to my best friend, cocks his head to one side, sniffs once in distaste and then...

... spits in his face.

I look at Peter's reaction. He is calmer than I would have been. He wipes his face with a corner of his shirt then he turns to me and says,

"Are ye going to tell him or what?"

I don't know what to do. Paddy heard me deny I was gay. I cannot admit who I am. I can't.

"Tell me what?" Patrick asks me.

I pause. I have hit a crossroad in my life. I can tell the truth or I can lie.

"The fucker tried it on with me." I say.

Pete looks at me in disbelief.

"Ye shirt-lifter!" Paddy says to Pete in disgust. "Shit! I always knew there was something wrong with ye!"

Peter shoves him. "I'm not!"

Paddy shoves him back and then punches him straight in the gut winding Pete.

They start to fight hard, throwing punches that show no mercy. I try to break them up but I am ineffective, crippled by alcohol and guilt.

They part long enough to catch their breath and Pete takes one look at me.

I look away.

"Ye are a coward, Bren." He says.

He walks out of his own room.

"Fuck off, ye queer!" Paddy shouts after him.

I feel like the smallest most pathetic human on the planet. I am a dick. My mind is in two places. I should apologise to Peter. I should thank my lucky stars I have him as a scape goat. I don't know how I should feel.

Paddy squeezes my shoulder. "Alright?"

I nod briefly.

"Can't believe he is a faggot!"

"Stop." I say tiredly.

"What did he do? Try and get yer dick in his mouth?" He spits out.

"No." I think about when I touched my lips to his. "He kissed me. That's all."

"Fucking hell."

Paddy rubs his chin, thinking. "We should find him."

"What?"

"He needs a lesson. Ye can't just try it on with yer mates. How do I know that he won't try it on with me next time I get pissed?"

Is he serious?

"Come on. Let's get the guys."

He runs ahead of me so I follow him.

Pete's dad is downstairs in the pub when we walk through it.

"Say Bren, why has my son just run out of here like the world has come to an end."

Paddy laughs loudly. "Ye don't want to know, sir!"

I walk up to him and say, "I'll find him. It's okay."

Our friends gather outside the pub in the warm summer night like a drunken mob out for blood. Paddy is whipping them up into a homophobic frenzy.

"Let's get that shit-stabbing uphill gardener!"

And we start treading the streets, looking for Pete. I go with them because I feel like I have started this avalanche and I am trying to figure out a way to stop it. I hope that we don't find him. I try not to think about what will happen if we do. I text him.

paddy + lads r cmg after u

And then I have a thought.

"Hey, Paddy! Maybe it is better if we split up."

He grins. "Aye. Good idea."

I smile. "I'll head that way."

"Ye want me to come with ye?"

"No!" I grin. "If I find him, I can handle him on my own."

I sprint off. If I know Pete at all then I know where he has gone. I check that none of the lads are following me as I run through the streets of the city centre until I turn into Dame Lane. I walk up to a door and press the buzzer to a third floor flat. A few minutes later I hear a voice through the speaker in the wall.

"Fuck off, Bren!"

It is Brianna.

"I need to take to Pete."

"He told me what happened. Ye are a spineless bastard!"

I have no comeback for that. She is right.

I sit on the ground on the edge of the pavement and contemplate the evening through my hazy brain while watching the night traffic drive by faster than it should through this busy street.

Minutes pass and I figure I may as well go home. And then the door opens.

"Ye are an arsehole, Bren." I stand up and turn to see Pete leaning on the edge of the door. He is looking pretty beaten up. He walks up to me.

"And that's news to ye?"

"Ye have to set Paddy straight."

"I'll tell him we had a misunderstanding. But I don't want him to know, Pete."

"He is one of yer closest friends. He should know the truth. He may surprise ye."

"He won't. He is not like ye. And ye can't tell anybody else; the lads, my family." I say.

Pete nods. "It is not my place to."

"Thanks." I feel myself breathe a little easier.

"What a night." He says.

"Yeah."

I think it is time to call it a day. I need to sleep and then tomorrow I need to get Paddy and the lads off Pete's case.

"Are ye going to be okay getting home or do ye want to crash at Bri's."

"Nah. She'd stab me in me sleep."

He laughs. "Aye, ye might be right there."

We smile at each other and I say, "I am sorry I kissed ye."

He shrugs. "I'm just grateful it wasn't tongues."

And I laugh because he has made it easy for me. Now I have one person in the world who knows. And that is okay. But that is where it will stop. No one else can know.

"Come here." He says. I walk up to him and we hug. This isn't bad. Pete hasn't freaked out. He hasn't run away from me.

"What the fuck is going on?"

Pete and I turn and see Paddy and a couple of our friends running down the street. Paddy must have eventually figured out where to find Pete.

"What are ye hugging that queer for, Bren?" He asks in revulsion.

And again I hit a crossroad. I have two choices; own up or not.

I look Pete straight in the eye hoping my apology is accepted and then I shout,

"Fucking queer! Get yer hands off me!"

I push him off me with all my might.

And I think that is it. At worst he will get a bruised ego and bum. Both will heal eventually but at least we will both be safe for a night. He will run into the flat and I will look like the gay-hating hard man and go home. Job done. Night. Night. Bring on tomorrow and a few explanations.

But I haven't factored in the drinking and the feeling of betrayal, have I? Even moderate Peter is unsteady on his feet so when I push him, he falls backwards into the street, hitting his head on the tarmac. Not a problem. He just needs to get up which he does slowly, gripping his head. But then I can only guess that the shock of my force, my betrayal and the alcohol slow his actions right down. So he stands in the middle of the road dusting himself off, looking like he has suffered a concussion.

Above us, Brianna lean's out of her flat's window. She shouts frantically,

"Pete, get out of the road, baby! PETE!"

I look up the street at a speeding car.

"PETER!"

-0-

"Get off him, Bren!" Paddy says while I try to gather my unmoving friend into my arms.

"NO! Oh my God! Pete!" I scream.

"Look, ye need to go. The cops are going to be here soon and ye need to be gone."

I look down at my bloodied hands; Pete's blood. I numbly reach into my pocket and take my phone out. "I need to call an ambulance."

Paddy takes my phone from me and throws it against the wall. I stand up and try to thump him but I only manage to clip the side of his temple.

"I've called one already." Brianna says as she runs to us from the flat with streaks of tears coming down her face. "Get the fuck away from him, Bren."

She pushes at me and despite her slim form she manages to shift me off Pete more successfully than Paddy did. Maybe it is the pain in her eyes.

I stand up and pick up my phone. And then I start running and I keep running until I get home.

-0-0-

I look down at Brendan from the massage couch.

"It was a hit and run." I say quietly. "That is how Pete ended up in a wheelchair."

"No." Bren says. "It was because I was too afraid to say..." The words stick in his throat. "He lost everything, football, his girlfriend, his life as he knew it because I pushed him into the road."

I shake my head trying to make sense of what he is saying.

"Ye are better off without me, Stephen."

He stands up and stares down at me. Then he leans in and gives me the most tender kiss he ever has. I hate it because it feels like good bye; like he knows that every word of truth that he says puts more distance between us.

"While we are here, ye may as well know it all. I have done a lot of bad things. _I_ have sold drugs to kids. I have hurt a lot of people, Stephen, deliberately. I hurt people I care about._ I_ mugged my sister for the club's takings. _I_ put her in hospital. I permanently damaged my best friend. Do ye need more proof of how dangerous I can be?"

I look at him and it is as if I am seeing someone else, a stranger.

"No." I shake my head. I have heard enough. I can't bear any more.

"I killed someone, Stephen."

I practically fall off the couch.

"I killed Danny Houston."

A strange strangled sound comes out of me and I feel tears run down my cheek.

"No."

"Yes, Stephen." He whispers into my ear. "Now how does that trip to Rome in the autumn sound?"

He leans back enough to see me recoil away from him, shivering in disbelief and fear.

He nods,

"Yeah. Thought so."

And he walks out of the massage room leaving me emotionally broken.


	21. Chapter 20

By the time I get back into the flat all evidence of Patrick is gone as is the small pot of cash that Chez keeps in the kitchen for the weekly shopping.

Good riddance. I don't know why he walked back into my life but he has fucked it up royally and I know that was his intent. What I don't get is why and why now. At this point I don't care. I am glad he is gone.

Chez is nowhere to be seen either. I don't know where the fuck she is. Not here at the flat, that's for sure. Maybe I should try to find her and try to explain. But what would I say?

_I'm not gay, sis, and with Stephen! Please! Don't listen to that eejit Patrick. And can you honestly see me hurting Peter? Who are ye going to believe; Patrick or me?_

Or...

_Yes, Chez, Paddy is right. I have lied to you my whole life. The truth is I like the feel of hard male plains under my fingers. I enjoy sucking dick. I love getting balls deep in a hot tight arse. Actually, no. Let me be more specific. I like doing those things with one man in particular. Your favourite ex-barman. Stephen. Surprise. Ye didn't see that coming, did ye? And there's more. I have hurt him. I have beaten him up and made him think it was his fault. And that is not all. I put Pete in his wheelchair because of my issues; my problems. He has to live with the consequences of my denial and shame_.

I walk to the drinks cabinet as if on autopilot thinking of Patrick and Chez and Peter and Stephen.

My life is caving in.

I am an arsehole.

-0-0-

Two bottles of _Jamesons_ lie empty on the floor in the living room and I am hugging the third close to my chest on the sofa. I gave up on using a glass a while back. The drink is the only thing that seems steady right now. Everything else is all over the place; the floor, my legs, my head, my emotions. But the whiskey will cure all, won't it? It will either give me an epiphany or it will numb me until I feel no pain.

I have lost Stephen for good. I'm not being overdramatic. You were there when I confessed all to him. There is no coming back from that. In fact, I am expecting a knock on the door from the cops any minute now after he turns my name into the police.

_Brendan Brady, we have a warrant for your arrest on suspicion of the murder of Danny Houston. You have the right to remain silent..._

Excuse me while I drink a little more, folks.

There. That's better.

What was I saying? Yeah. Stephen is gone from my life. It was a long time coming really. What did you expect; a 'they lived happily ever after'?

How was that ever going to happen?

Stephen and I are both fucked up. We both come from childhoods that would make the hardest of men weep. Love, hate and violence were interwoven. Thanks to our parents, we don't know what they truly mean. We get confused. Maybe that is why I hurt him over and over again and why he took it time and again.

When I met him for the first time ever at my sister's club Stephen was in the process of scamming Tony and Il _Gnosh_ by undercutting his catering costs. When he got caught out and fired by Tony-tone he dared to blackmail me into giving him a job at _Chez Chez_. Stephen had edge, balls and feistiness. Even though I thumped him for daring to get one up on me I was drawn to him and those long lashes framing hypnotic blue eyes.

But I didn't do what many men now-a-days would do when some bloke catches their eye; put out feelers, establish interest, maybe ask him out on a date. No. I am not that guy. I come from a world where that is wrong; where men who are attracted to men, who fuck men, are considered sick in the head. So I tried to suppress my longing for my new co-worker but that was hard when my attraction was so strong and the object of my lust so near.

In fact it was impossible. So I devised a plan to relieve my pent up desire. I plied Stephen with wage and loyalty bonuses. I kept him back at the end of a day's work and got him in early just to see more of him; keep him close. But it wasn't long before I decided that was not enough. I wanted more. I wanted him... just once to satisfy an unbearable itch and then I'd move on.

So I resorted to familiar underhand ways to get him. Using the ever trusty Veronica, I framed him as a cheater to fracture his relationship with Rae. Remember her? She helped me get Stephen's poker night birthday surprise set up. Then I began my mind games; shifting from Stephen's friend to foe and back again. When I saw that the lad was beginning to look up to me, I struck.

A night out became a night in at my place. Doused in the finest Irish whiskey I kept conversation light while Stephen filled the air with drunken verbal drivel until finally the room became heavy with pent up sexual frustration.

The thing is, even though I was the one who wanted Stephen it had to appear the other way round. That is what power games are all about. So when he kissed me he thought he was the initiator when the truth was altogether different.

That is how the status quo was established. I controlled Stephen and our relationship. I told him when, where and how. If he stepped out of line he got a slap just like I had when I was growing up. I had to go into this on my own terms with my rules otherwise we would get out of hand.

Little by little things got out of hand anyway. What I had said would be a one off 'fuck, blow, cum and go' became an irrepressible addiction to him.

_I can maintain control_, I told myself like a mantra after every time I buried myself in him, kissed him, fucking held him in my arms.

_I call the shots_. _I can put an end to things whenever_.

But then I would say,

_I just don't feel like it yet._

It was a matter of time before Stephen started saying that he couldn't stay in a secret relationship or put up with my abuse. He threatened to walk away.

Excuse me while I have another sip of whiskey or two. There.

Right where was I? Yeah. Stephen leaving. The first time he left me I got a glimpse of just how delusional I had become. In control. Ha! What a joke! Every time he stepped out of my life things became shit. I thought about him constantly even though I tried not to. I thought up ways to get him back and I tried to move on but I couldn't.

Up until now it didn't matter because he has always come back; back to the secrecy and fists like an eejit. Like a masochist. Back for more torture.

So I kept telling myself to get rid of him because he was having too much of a hold on me; a hold I did not need.

But I couldn't.

Fuck!

I tip some more booze down my gullet.

Instead, I got myself in too deep with Stephen and now I am paying for my weakness.

Patrick made sure of that by coming back into my life and overturning it. He peeled off my mask. He revealed who I really am to Chez and Stephen. A cowardly homophobic closet case.

Without another thought I stand up suddenly, pick up my house keys and head out of the flat with my trusty bottle of whiskey in hand.

There is one person I want to see right now.

-0-0-

"Brendan!" Peter looks at me in surprise. He looks like I just woke him up. "What the hell are you doing here at this time of night? It's gone one am. Some of us have school assembly in the morning."

I push past his wheelchair and stumble into his house uninvited, throwing myself onto his sofa before taking a big slug from my bottle of _Jamesons_.

"Ye are drunk."

"They picked a smart one for Head of Hollyoaks High." I slur.

"What's going on, Bren?" He says wheeling himself up to me. "Ye avoid me like the plague normally. Ye act like I'm not here."

"Do I?" I say, looking at him through half closed eyes. His hair is dishevelled from sleep. He is in a tee-shirt and pyjama bottoms. I stare at his legs. Dead legs. "Yeah. Yeah. I do. I avoid ye."

"Look at ye. Ye are legless." He mutters as he wheels himself to his open plan kitchen and pours me a drink of water from the fridge.

I giggle uncontrollably. "Legless! Funny coming from ye!"

I crawl to lie more fully on his sofa.

"Sensitivity was never yer strong suit was it?" He niftily uses one hand to navigate his wheelchair back to me while holding a glass of water in the other.

"Take yer shoes off, Brendan. You'll mess my couch."

I toe my shoes off sluggishly and get a flashback of doing the exact same thing nearly eleven years ago on his instruction when I collapsed onto his bed, just as drunk, at his father's flat in Dublin.

"Here." He shoves the water into my hand and tugs my whiskey bottle away from me. "Drink this."

I do as he says and give him the empty glass when I am done.

"Do ye remember ye gave me a glass of water at _Brannigan's_ that night?" I whisper, closing my eyes and lying on my back as I remember his father's pub.

"What night?" Peter says but I can tell from his tone that he knows what I am talking about.

"The night I fucked up yer life." I say quietly, squeezing my eyes tightly as I feel tears wanting to force their way out.

Pete is quiet for some time. "Is that why you are here? To finally talk about what happened."

"No." I mutter. "I came here for sanctuary." Like I used to seek when I was a kid, running away to my best friend when there was shit going on at home.

"What?"

"I said I am here for sanct-"

"I heard what ye said, Bren. What gave ye the idea that I was going to give it to ye?"

"We used to be best friends." I slur.

"The operative words being 'used to'. You lost mate's rights when ye fucked me over and then disappeared without a trace, hiding like a coward."

I get his anger but my drunk self remembers what a good friend Pete was to me and how he used to forgive me anything. But how can he forgive me for what I did to him? Even though I want nothing more. I know it is probably the drink making me more emotional than normal but I miss his friendship and now more than ever I need it.

"I left him tonight." I slur quietly and turn my head to look at Peter.

His look is wide-eyed, trying to make sense of what the fuck I am doing in his house.

"Or maybe he left me. Anyway, it is over. He won't come back this time."

"Who are ye talking about?" Pete's confused.

I give him a look that says 'Oh please! You know!'

"Stephen?" He asks incredulously. "You were still with him?"

I clap loudly. "Give the man a medal!"

"I thought ye two were done and he was seeing that gym instructor. Nice guy."

"Fuck the gym instructor." I slur and sit up so that I can speak intently to him; as intently as one can when one is pissed as a fart. "Listen to me, Peter. Are ye listening? I told him everything. I had to. So I did. I thought he would get hurt otherwise. More hurt than if I told him what happened."

"Who, Stephen?"

I nod.

"Fuck. Were ye like a proper couple? In secret?"

"Can we stick to the point please?" I say impatiently. He doesn't get the point and the point is... "He made me tell Stephen everything."

Pete frowns at me. "Who did?"

I lie back onto the sofa on my back, legs hanging off the end and staring at the ceiling.

"I was meant to meet Stephen alone for a bit of fun afterhours at that home for posers he works at, you know. No. No, you don't. You wouldn't understand. Because it is all hush hush and fuck me it is incredible. He is incredible. Anyway. We have done it there before. Thought it might be fun to have a repeat experience in the Jacuzzi."

"What are ye going on about, Brendan?"

"He was there. Patrick was with Stephen in the massage room when I got there." I shudder as I think about it. "It was meant to be just Stephen and me."

Pete's frown deepens. "Paddy? What was he doing there then?"

"He told us that he knew about Stephen and me."

"Fuck me." Peter's cursing is quiet but emphatic. Patrick is the personification of homophobic violence. Peter knows this first hand. "Is he okay? Stephen, I mean, he wasn't hurt when you got there."

I shake my head and contemplate the row of frosted recessed ceiling lights above me. "But he could have been. Paddy told me to tell him what happened with you or he would."

Peter shakes his head slowly and becomes pensive. "This is not making sense."

"No."

"Why did he care so much about whether Ste knew what happened between us back in Dublin?"

"I don't know. To clear his name? You've never blamed anyone publically for what happened to ye but most people assume Paddy had something to do with it."

Peter never pressed charges against me. He always claimed it to be a self-inflicted drunken accident. To this day I do not understand why. He had every right to take me to court.

"People we know in Dublin maybe." He says. "But here in Hollyoaks no one knows what happened and I'm sure most don't care so why would Paddy want to make an issue of it?"

I hold my head. I am too drunk to process what Pete is saying.

"Ye say he knew about ye and Ste, right? So why didn't he just beat ye two to a pulp?"

"Thanks."

"What I mean is that is how he has always dealt with things he doesn't like, isn't it? And we all know what he thinks of gay people."

"I'm not a pansy or a queer, Peter." I slur.

"Who used the words 'pansy' or 'queer'? They're your words not mine." He says sharply. "Sometimes you remind me of him, ye know."

I stay quiet. He is right, there are echoes of Patrick in me. He has influenced who I am and I hate that.

"Ye've got to learn to love who ye are, Bren." He whispers. "It took me a while but I've learned to love who I have become."

The ceiling lights blur with the tears in my eyes. This has to be a personal record. I don't think I have ever cried this much.

Peter rubs his chin pensively. "He must have had an ulterior motive for getting ye to tell Ste."

"He wanted to destroy my life."

"That's obvious but why and why now?"

"He told Chez too."

"Where is he now?"

"Dunno. Long gone, I hope." I settle more comfortably on the sofa, lying on my side and tucking my hands under my head. I close my eyes. Suddenly I feel really tired and strangely at peace in Peter's home.

I yawn.

"What are ye doing, Bren?" He asks brusquely.

"Feel sleepy." I mumble.

"Fuck off! Ye are not sleeping over. I am still angry with ye!"

"I know." I mutter quietly as I feel fatigue take over. With my eyes still closed I say, "And ye have no idea how sorry I am for what I did to ye, Peter. If you were me, no, I mean, if I were ye I would never forgive me. Ye were always my bessie mate. Friend for life. And I fucked things up. I fucked up yer life. And it is my entire fault. I can't face seeing ye like ye are, that is why I avoid ye. Ye remind me of how much of a coward I am. Ye took the fall for me. Ye paid the price. I'm sorry."

Verbal diarrhoea full of truth. It is all made easier by the fact that I am drunk as shit and an inch away from sleep.

"Did ye drink some truth serum as well as half a whiskey distillery?" Peter's whisper sounds shocked by my truthful confession.

"I told Stephen something else I did, Peter. Something very bad. But he doesn't know that I did it for him. I did it because he would have been killed." Tears stream from my shut eyes and down to my hands. "I had to protect him. I couldn't take my chances. I had to keep him safe."

I feel a gentle hand on my arm. "Brendan?"

"Um?"

"Ye love young Stephen, don't ye?"

I wipe my tears quietly. I don't have the energy to deny or acknowledge.

"What did ye do, Bren? Open yer eyes."

I take a deep shaky breath in and out. Peter sounds encouraging and comforting. For a second he sounds like the best friend I lost and I could do with a best friend right now. I open my eyes and stare into Pete's. He gives me a small smile.

I will probably regret this but if I don't let off steam, I am going to go mad so I sniff and then a laugh escapes me. Call it a fucked up reaction to extreme stress. I can't suppress it. It becomes a silent cackle and even I am not sure if I am crying tears of grief or mirth after a while. That is how fucked up my state of mind is.

"What?" He asks softly.

"I killed Danny Houston, Peter."


	22. Chapter 21

I turn in bed to lay on my front. I don't want to wake up. Not yet. My chest feels heavy; not physically, right, but emotionally. I bury my face into the pillow and sigh. Then I feel soft lips and course stubble on my shoulder and a hand caressing down my back. I take a sharp breath in when it traces the curve of my spine and settles on my butt.

Naked butt.

I squeeze my eyes shut.

Those lips. That hand. I know them.

And last night comes flooding back...

-0-0-

I don't go home after leaving _Look Sharpe_. I can't. Amy will have too many questions about why I am in a state.

You must be wondering why I don't hot foot it to the police station and tell them that Bren has confessed a murder crime to me. I know it sounds crazy but I can't and it isn't just loyalty, love and stupidity. In some messed up way I think justice has been served. Not that I believe in taking justice into your own hands but Danny Houston was a low life, a mobster, a seriously bad man. He got what was coming to him.

The fact that Brendan was the perpetrator of the crime is what makes my skin crawl. What were his motivations? What kind of sick scam was he involved in with Danny that he felt the only solution was to top him off?

My feet take me to the front of a familiar flat's door. I knock on it and shiver even though it is a warm, still spring night. My vision is blurred because of tears.

"Ste? Kind of late to call in unannounced don't ya think?" Doug says then he sees my puffy red eyes. "What's the matter?"

I open my mouth but nothing comes out.

"Shit, dude! Come in."

He ushers me to the couch, gets me a glass of water and hovers over me, looking awkward.

"Did you want to talk about it?" He asks.

'_I permanently damaged my best friend, Stephen._ _He lost everything; football, his girlfriend, his life...'_ I hear Bren's voice in my head.

"No." I whisper. I take a sip of water. My hand is shaking.

"Look, I'll get Noah. I think he is up in his room."

I shiver and a fresh wave of tears falls from my eyes. I wipe them roughly. "Actually, maybe this was a bad idea. I'm sorry. I'll go."

'_I killed Danny Houston, Stephen.'_

I drop the glass of water I'm holding as Brendan's confession echoes in my head and it smashes to pieces on the floor.

Doug looks at me with concern.

"S-s-s-sorry." I say.

"It's okay, Ste." He bends to pick up the glass pieces and puts them on a table. "Dude, you don't look right to me. Seriously, Noah won't mind. Just go on up."

"Okay." I say numbly. I walk upstairs slowly and pause outside Noah's room. I am here for support, comfort and distraction. I am here because I want to feel good even if it is for a moment. I take a breath in and walk into Noah's room without knocking.

"Ste!" He looks at me in surprise from his bed where he is reading some men's quarterly magazine.

"I'm s-s-sorry." I say. "I-"

He takes one look at me, drops his magazine and leaps up onto his feet. God. I must look a mess because he wraps me up in his arms in a split second and boy does it feel good. My shivers disappear straight away and I relax. He is good at this, Noah is. He holds me just the way I need. His arms are strong and make me feel protected, cared for. He is here, concrete, reliable, safe. He pulls me even tighter to him and kisses my hair, forehead, ears.

I feel... cherished. Yeah, that's the word. He runs his hands slowly over my body and I let him because I know that he would never hurt me. Not like Bren-

"What happened?" He whispers.

I sniff a sob and push my face into his chest. I don't want to talk about it. I want to forget what Brendan said. I want Noah to help me forget.

"I can't tell you." I whisper.

He looks at me with confusion. "What do you want me to do?"

I pull back to look into his eyes. I drag my hands down his side and rest them on his hips. "I don't want to talk, Noah."

I lean up and kiss him and I can tell that he is surprised but after a moment he kisses me back. Then it is my turn to be surprised because he lifts me up as if I weigh no more than a feather and carries me to his bed.

-0-0-

The next morning, I am woken up by him fondling me as you know.

"You awake?" He whispers as he teases my ear with his mouth. His hand remains on my butt. How do I get it off me without being obvious?

"Um." I say. "Yeah."

I turn to him and feel terrible when I see him smiling like the cat that got the cream.

The sex yesterday was good, yeah, maybe even better than good. Noah, um, like, he knows what he is doing in bed. He was gentle which is good because he could have done some, um, damage. God, I get so embarrassed talking about this stuff! Let's just say that he has the edge when it comes to size compared to Bren. Yeah. Last night he was what I needed but in the cold light of day I feel nothing but regret at what we did. I used sex with him as a quick fix.

And today I am no further forward. I am still thinking about Bren and how when he touches me it is an unparalled experience; so much more than anything I felt last night with Noah.

"When I said bye to you yesterday, I would have never seen this coming." He says as he pulls me to him, wrapping a strong arm around my waist. "I thought that you were giving me the brush off proper."

He nibbles my jaw line and I run my hand over his stubble. "My brain's been all over the place, Noah. I've been trying to sort myself out."

"Was that what the tears were about yesterday? You were in a right state."

"I found out some truths." I confess. That is as much as he is getting out of me.

"Truths?"

"Yeah."

"Does it have anything to do with Brendan?"

My eyes widen at the mention of his name. "Not everything is about him."

I can't look him in the face when I say that.

"It's just that you were really upset last week when I brought up the fact that he used to hit you."

"The violence was over well before we broke up. Anyway Bren's in my past. I have moved on totally." I add, "It's just that we spoke yesterday."

"You did?" Noah can barely hide his jealousy. "What did you talk about?"

_Oh, you know, this and that. How he maimed his best friend, hospitalised his sister and killed an old business associate of his. The usual._

I suppress a shudder. "It doesn't matter, yeah. The point is we are through."

"I'm glad to hear it." He murmurs in my ear. "Does this mean you are willing to give us a go?"

I stay quiet. It is not Noah's fault that I am still not over Bren. With time I will move on. I know it. Maybe I should take a step in the right direction. I managed to follow through in bed with him, right? That's progress, ain't it?

Noah rolls me onto my back and settles between my legs, covering me with his hard, toned, smooth body.

"Are you trapping me?" I ask softly with a smile.

"You're not going to give me the brush off are you?" He whispers.

"No." I shake my head. But there is something I want to understand.

"Why do you like me, Noah?" I whisper shyly.

Is that a strange question to ask? Maybe. Have you ever wondered that about your friends and lovers? Probably not, huh. That's because you have self-esteem and self-confidence and that. Well I don't and maybe that is because I have never really had proper friends or family.

And if I am honest I have never really had a proper relationship. With Amy, I was manipulative, immature, and violent. I was Brendan. Rae was a cover, a smokescreen. It was a non relationship. Noah was all about me trying to be in a 'normal' relationship whatever that is. And what did I do? I kept him at arm's length. I wouldn't let him in emotionally or physically. I fucked it up.

And Brendan. Well you guys know all about us. In many ways it _felt_ so real, like there were times when I thought, 'This is it. This is what it is all about.' But then as good as those moments were the bad times were horrid.

"Why do I like you?" Noah says as he touches my cheek, brushes my hair and traces my lips. "Because you are feisty. You are street smart. You are a survivor. I can tell. You are a problem solver. You are strong."

"I'm really not."

"You are, Ste. Look at how far you've come and all on your own. You have done yourself proud. And you are selfless when it comes to your family. I had no idea that Leah wasn't your daughter until Ames mentioned."

"But she is."I say.

"Not biologically but you raise her as your own. I think that's amazing. And do you know why else I like you?"

I shake my head.

"You are hot." He grins.

"You've got shit in your eyes."

"No." He strokes his hand down my chest, abs and hips. "You don't even know. There is something magnetic about you. I can't explain it."

I blush and smile because the way he says it, all sincere like, I think I believe him. "You are just trying to get your leg over again."

"That never crossed my mind." He says softly and then winks while thrusting slowly against me.

"Liar." I whisper.

And then he grabs me willy.

-0-0-

"Ste! I was calling you all night." Amy says to me when I creep into our house in the late morning hoping I won't be caught by her in my crumpled _Look Sharpe_ uniform from the day before. She is packing her bag in the kitchen area ready for afternoon classes at the high school.

I pat myself down and find my phone. "Sorry dead battery."

"Where were you? I was worried."

I swallow nervously. "Out."

She raises an eyebrow.

"With a friend." I scowl at her. "Where are the kids?"

"I dropped them off at nursery. I wasn't sure you'd be back before I had to go."

"Oh okay. Sorry." I put the kettle on. "I'll pick them upin a bit."

She walks up to me all intense like she is dissecting me, digging for the truth.

"Who's the guy?"

I roll my eyes. "Why do you think I was with some guy?"

Her eyebrow goes up even more. "Because I can read you like a book. Plus you have stubble burn on your cheeks and your tee-shirt is the wrong way around."

I blush as I look down. Damn.

_Okay. You get this point but you aren't that good, Ames. You didn't realise that Bren and I were dating for weeks._

"Okay fine. I was with Noah."

"You what!" Her jaw drops before she gets a silly smile on her face. "Ste, I thought it over with him."

I shrug. "I guess you could say I reconsidered his offer."

"Yeah?" She cracks a small smile.

"Yeah." I smile back. It is good to see that she is happy for me. I get two clean mugs and put a teabag in one and two spoons of instant coffee in the other. Then I dig into the biscuit tin.

"So?" She says expectantly.

"So what?" I say with a full mouth.

"Did you two, you know?" She raises and lowers her brows to show her meaning.

I blush and finish swallowing. Then I nod without being able to keep eye contact.

"Oh my God! How was it? Was it hot? Wow! I can just imagine..."

While she witters on I try to think back to my night with Noah but all that keeps invading my mind is Brendan and me together. Noah was good but Brendan was incredible.

The kettle boils and I pour water into our mugs. I give the coffee to Ames and pour milk over my tea. "I don't kiss and tell."

Amy's grin gets ridiculously big. She puts her mug down and then pulls me into a hug. "I am so happy for you!"

I grin but can't help feeling that maybe I should be at least as happy as Ames is and I am not.

-0-0-

_**A week later. The Day of Mitzeee's Charity Fashion Show...**_

_**...**_

Noah and I are at the reception of _Look Sharpe_. Business is fairly light this morning so he is hanging out with me while he waits for his next client to come for a personal training session. In the mean time we are having a bit of a make out session behind the desk. It is strange, right. I have never been one for ridiculous levels of PDA but Noah is and I find myself swept along. Maybe it is because he is such a contrast to Brendan. A suggestive glance in Bren's direction would have been enough to freak him out.

"Are you seriously going tonight?" I ask Noah, holding onto his hand for dear life when I pull away to catch my breath.

"Yeah. I've got to, babes. I promised Mitzeee. I can't leave her high and dry. And Doug, Ethan and Riley are counting on me. It's for charity."

He runs his fingers through my hair.

I get palpitations of fear. "She hasn't even said what the charity is. How do you know that she isn't going to pocket all the takings?"

My throat feels tight.

"Are you worried about seeing Brendan there? Is that what this is about?"

"Maybe, a bit." I confess. "I just need to keep my distance."

I can't trust myself to do the right thing around him.

"Don't worry. He hasn't been to any of the last minute rehearsals for the show. Ever since Paddy left, no one has seen him."

"Really?" _Where is he?_

For the last week I have done little more than work and hang out with Noah or my kids. I have been struggling to sleep properly. That strange nightmare where I find myself in a dark room in front of a familiar panel of Brendan haters is back and I wake up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night.

_I hope he is okay_.

"Yeah. That Paddy was a nice guy. I don't get why he left without a goodbye."

"I didn't like him." I say shakily.

"You never even got to know him."

"I knew enough. He gave me the creeps."

Noah nods. "Yeah, I suppose anyone associated with Brendan Brady has to be kept at arm's length. Anyway, why are we talking about him? You are coming tonight, aren't you?"

"I don't know. I'll think about it."

He gives me a kiss. "I could do with your support since you bailed out on actually participating."

The door to the spa opens and a familiar punter walks in.

"Hi Mrs. Costello." I say.

"Hello, Ste." Heidi Costello walks up to us, made up to the nines, every inch the WAG. "Noah."

"Ready for your work out?" Noah asks.

"Not really but I've got to maintain this figure somehow." She says drily. "I'll get changed. See you in a minute."

"Yep." My boyfriend says. When she walks off he turns to me. "I should set things up for the work out. Are we on for lunch, by the way?"

"Um. Yeah. No. I can't. I promised Amy I'd eat with her. I'll talk to you later, yeah?"

-0-0-

I walk into _Chez Chez_ for the first time in two months at around lunchtime. Yeah, I lied to Noah about lunch with Amy but I didn't want to explain why I was off to speak with Brendan's sister. I just want to make sure he is okay and then I'll go because Paddy struck me as unhinged and I don't know what he is capable of, do I?

I feel weird walking into the club. It's like coming home in a way. It is completely dead so I make a beeline for the office.

"Hey rat boy!" I jump in fear at hearing the unexpected voice behind me. I turn around to see Warren lurking in the shadows. As co-owner of the club he was also my ex-boss but I always felt I was more answerable to Chez than him. After all she had a 51% share in the business.

"Nice of you to grace us with your presence." He says with a broad smile. "It has been too long, Ste!"

I shuffle on the spot and cover my hands up with the sleeves of my jumper nervously. I haven't seen Warren in ages. "I've come to see Cheryl."

"Really?" He says and saunters up to me. You know how Warren is a bit of a bad boy like Brendan? Isn't it interesting how they can carry such different energies despite that? If I could make them into animals Warren would be a grizzly bear, rough around the edges, brutal but also clever and agile. Brendan would be a panther, slick, unrelenting, calculating and sly. And I wouldn't fancy my chances against either of them. Do you know what I mean?

"Are you sure you aren't here to see lover-boy?"

I take a step back. "No. No. Why do you say that? Bren and I were over ages ago. Look is Chez here or not?"

"Not." He continues to smile at me.

"Where is she?"

"Out and about. Shopping herself out of her misery." He says drawing to a stop in front of me so that I have to crane my head up to make eye contact. Why do I feel like we are playing cat and mouse and I am definitely the rodent? "That Patrick sure knows how to make a grand reveal, doesn't he? He devastated her."

"What?" I say sharply.

"Cheryl has been over at mine for most of the week, crying on my shoulder." Warren says. Then he mimics his girlfriend. "'How could my own brother not tell me that he was gay? How couldn't I see it? And with Ste; my friend, my best barman!'"

"Patrick told her about Bren and me?" I hope my surprise sounds convincing. I remember Paddy saying that he had told Cheryl at _Look Sharpe_.

"We are tight like that, Chez and me. Tells me everything. Unlike another Brady I know. I had to act like it was all a bit of a shock of course. I was all 'You are joking! Brendan and Ste? Fucking in a tree? No way!' And she bought it. It were the performance of a lifetime! Then she told me that he paralysed that friend of his, Pete."

I don't say anything.

"You knew." He says in understanding. "Fuck! I thought I was a naughty boy but I have to tip my hat off to Brendan for that one. That's cold even for me."

"I'm going." I say. I don't want to be around Warren anymore. I spin on my heel and begin to make my way out. "See you around."

"Rat boy!" He calls out when I reach the stairs. I turn to glance at him.

"Leaving so soon?" He says with a grin and I shudder. "I see everything, Ste. I hear everything. I smell everything. I know everything."

He points a finger at me. "You were wondering where lover-boy has disappeared off to. You can't break that umbilical cord that joins you. Cute. Really it is. And stupid. Trust me. I wouldn't concern yourself with him. Consider yourself lucky that you are still in one piece and move on with that gym bunny fella of yours."

He knows about Noah and me? Actually it makes sense. Brendan and Warren are archenemies.

_Keep your friends close and your enemies closer_.

I guess since I was a part of Bren's life, Warren has been keeping tabs on me. That makes me feel uneasy. I should go as far away from Warren as possible but I am desperate to know how Bren is. I can't turn my feelings for him off like a tap.

I hesitate for a moment. "Just, like, is he okay?"

He looks at me and laughs and it sounds like pure evil. "Oh Ste! You are funny! When has Brendan ever been okay?"

I ignore him and run down the stairs.

"I take it you are coming to the show tonight!" He calls out to me. "Should be good!"

-0-0-

Later that day, there is chaos at home.

_# Mr Fred Bear is coming up the hill,_

_He climbs and climbs and climbs and climbs_

_And climbs and climbs and climbs._

_When he gets tired he stops and thinks,_

'_What shall I do now?_

_I'll climb and climb and climb and climb_

_Until I can climb no more' #_

Leah sings along to her favourite children's programme bouncing happily on her bum as she sits on the floor in front of the telly. Lucas is sitting with me on the sofa squirming in my lap refusing to finish his meal.

"Come on, champ!" I say, holding him with one arm with a spoon of food in the other. "Just two more spoonfuls and then you can play with your cars."

"Car!" He shouts and points at the toy bin. "Daddy!"

I take advantage of his open mouth to stuff it with some food. There! I know all the tricks, me. He munches quickly and then continues shouting,

"Car! Car! Car!"

"One more bite, mister." I say calmly over Leah's singing, Lucas's shouting and the telly.

"How do you deal with all the noise?" Noah says, coming out of my bedroom to join us in the living room. He is looking good, ready for the fashion show.

"Uncle Noah!" Leah jumps up and attaches herself to his leg.

"Yes princess." He looks down at her tiredly. She cannot get enough of playing with him. She has worn him out. He takes one look at me. "Ste, babe. Why aren't you dressed?"

I indicate the little guy in my lap. "I've been a little busy as you can see."

I manage to get the last spoonful into Lucas. He climbs off me and runs gleefully to his favourite toy; that car that Brendan got him as one of my birthday gifts.

"I'm going to be late." He says, annoyed.

I stand up and walk to him. Leah laughs as she wraps an arm around each of our legs and starts tugging at our trousers. I put my hands on his chest, ignoring her. "Well I can't go yet. I told you. Amy should be back any minute. Then I can tag out."

I quickly press my lips to his and hear my daughter making kissing noises below us.

"I'm going to have to go then. I need to get ready before the show starts." He says. "You are definitely coming to support me, yeah? You aren't trying to bail out are you?"

"No. I promise."

"Sing with me, Uncle Noah!" Leah says with a huge grin on her face and she hums along to the song on the telly.

"I would love to princess but I've got to go and look fabulous!" He says and practically runs out of the house.

I get the feeling that sometimes my family situation is a little too real for him to stomach.

-0-0-

I am seriously late for the show. It is not my fault. Amy was late and then I had to have a quick shower and make my way to Chester town hall which is two bus journeys away. It is a miracle I have made it in time to catch the last fifteen minutes of the show, really.

The set up in the hall is typical. The catwalk goes down the middle with a back drop at one end where the models come from that says,

_Mitzeee's Charity Fashion Show, 2011!_

There are ten rows of chairs either side of it and some at the end. It is packed with people which doesn't surprise me given how much promotion Mitzeee did.

I end up standing behind the chairs at the end of the catwalk where a few people are standing too. It is actually a pretty good spot. I spot Cheryl, Warren and Peter as well as a few other familiar faces from the village. Pete looks like he has come alone and I can't help but wonder why he is here since he hasn't got a strong connection to Mitzeee and isn't really on speaking terms with Brendan. But then this is all in the name of charity and Hollyoaks is showing its support tonight.

The important thing is that Brendan isn't here. I can live with that.

Mitzeee's male models strut out onto the catwalk to the beat of some dance track wearing not very much. Guess I am just in time for the underwear section. I won't lie. I am a red-blooded male and the pervert in me is enjoying this.

I clock Riley, Doug and Ethan amongst others walking down the catwalk looking more confident than I ever would in skivvies.

I look out for Noah.

He is the last to come out, dressed in nothing but white briefs that leave so little to the imagination that I cup my own junk self-consciously. But he looks dead confident and a second later Mitzeee steps out next to him in all white lace underwear and the highest heels I have ever seen with a white feather boa over her shoulders. They walk side by side holding hands and then do a little flirty thing halfway down the catwalk before continuing to the end. The cat calls and wolf whistles raise the roof as they pose.

Noah spots me standing at the back, points right at me and winks. I blush not knowing where to look. The guy standing next to me leans in and says in an envious tone,

"Do you know him?"

I nod and whisper, "He is my boyfriend."

He raises an eyebrow. "Congratulations. Really."

I don't know what to say, "Thanks."

They walk back down towards backstage and I appreciate Noah's retreating figure along with everyone else. Should I be more jealous than I am that the guy next to me is nothing short of salivating and panting heavily?

Whatever.

There is only one section left. Eveningwear.

The music goes from dance to trance and I wait impatiently to see the guys work their 'deconstructed Bond' looks. I remember Mitzeee's original plan for the end of the show. After all the models have strutted their stuff Brendan, in black, and Noah, in white, were suppose to walk to the end of the catwalk together and then pose in a manner that conveyed rivalry. She was then supposed to join them dressed in a floor length _femme fatal_ red dress, separate them and then walk back down the catwalk with them by her side. Of course the whole show would end with all the models stepping out and clapping at Mitzeee.

I wonder what plan B is since Bren isn't here.

There is an unexpectedly long wait for the section to start while the music plays. The crowd gets a little restless and I begin to worry that there may be trouble backstage.

Seconds later, Riley steps on looking like a blond smouldering Bond in his smart grey suit with no shirt and bare feet. He starts a conveyor belt of male models in various evening/dinner suits.

I clap politely with everyone else.

Noah finally walks onto the catwalk wearing shades and the white suit he wore on our first wardrobe fitting at _SUBAR_. I clap a little more determinedly and stand up straighter in support. Then I join in the wolf whistles. I am unexpectedly proud of him.

But the sound soon dies in my throat. My eyes widen in shock as I see Brendan step out, also dressed in shades but in a black suit.

Fuck me.

This is Plan A.

My hands hover in the air, mid-clap.

Brendan is here. Shit. And why must he look so sexy that I can hardly breathe.

I am acutely aware that I am easy to spot for him given that I am standing behind the chairs at the end of the catwalk. What do I do? Duck? Leave? Just stand defiantly?

Both Noah's and Bren's faces are fierce with not so much as a flicker of emotion. They barely acknowledge each other as they begin to walk. I don't know where they are looking with their shielded eyes but the twitch in Bren's cheek makes me conclude that he has seen me. I try to shrink to nothing.

When they get to the end of the catwalk they both take their shades off and Bren stares right at me. His face is blank but I swear I can see sorrow in his eyes. I try to look away but I can't. I hold his gaze. Is this really obvious? Does anyone else in the room see him watching me like that?

"That guy is looking at you like he could eat you whole!" The bloke standing next to me whispers.

I ignore him.

"Seriously! It's like he is stripping you with his eyes!" He says. "Who is he?"

"Someone I used to work with." I whisper, blushing.

"Okay. I want to work there!" He says in awe.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" I hear Noah say angrily at Bren over the music. Then he shoves him hard.

The crowd takes a collective gasp in shock as Brendan stumbles a little.

He replies, "What's yer problem, GB?"

"GB?" The bloke near me asks into my ear.

"Gym Bunny." I explain.

"Stop looking at him." Noah sneers pushing his chest forcefully against Brendan's.

Brendan hisses back. "Insecure, much? What are you, twelve?"

The music stops and the lights come up.

Noah shoves Bren and Brendan shoves him back.

"Guys. Guys. Guys!" Mitzeee says as she runs down the catwalk in her red dress. It is obvious she is pissed off that the limelight has been taken away from her but she is trying to behave like this was all part of the act. She starts clapping, encouraging the crowd to do the same. "Brilliant! Really!"

Warren stands up and looks in my direction following Brendan's earlier eye line. He spots me and grins knowingly. Bastard. Chez is looking just as shocked by Bren's presence as I am.

Bren and Noah are breathing heavily as they stare menacingly at each other.

"And that is our show, ladies and gentlemen!" Mitzeee says nervously as she pulls Brendan off the catwalk. "Donate generously! Goodnight!"

A smattering of claps and puzzled looks come from the audience.

Mitzeee takes Brendan to one corner of the room while Riley and Doug take Noah to another. I should go to Noah but I find myself staying where I am and tuning into the conversation taking place between 'boyfriend' and 'girlfriend'.

"What the hell was that all about?" Mitzeee hisses at Brendan.

"Why don't ye ask him?" Bren points at Noah. "He is acting like an eejit!"

"Do you blame him? Brendan, you disappeared for a week without telling anyone where you were going or for how long and now you waltz in and pull this shit!"

"I was in Ireland, okay! Sue me!" He hisses.

"You're behaviour is beyond erratic, Brendan!"

"Brendan Brady?"

A woman's voice cuts into their argument. I watch as a suited and booted middle-aged woman walks up to Mitzeee and Bren flanked by two policemen. Where did they come from?

I look between Brendan and them. Why are cops here? I take a step closer to them.

"Are you Brendan Brady?" She repeats.

"Who wants to know?" He replies not showing a flicker of emotion.

The woman walks up to him. "I'm chief constable Rowland, Chester Police. I would like to have a word with you in private."

"I have nothing to say to you." He says snapping his gum in his mouth. He looks calm but I know Bren. He is nervous. He looks at me with hooded eyes and my legs itch to go to him.

I feel an arm circle my waist and I jump from the touch.

"Hey handsome." Noah says to me and kisses my forehead. "You made it."

"Yeah." I say distractedly trying to eavesdrop on what the cops are saying.

"Fucking Brendan. He nearly ruined everything." Noah mutters.

I push him away gently. "The police are with him."

He follows my eye line and smiles. "Oh yeah. About time too. It was only a matter of time before he was going to get done for something. What is the charge?"

My mouth goes dry and my heart pounds in my chest as I look on. "Don't know."

I strain to hear what is being said.

"Officers, I haven't got all day. I have a standing ovation from the audience and a snog from my girlfriend waiting for me." Brendan drawls and pulls a worried looking Mitzeee to him.

"Both those things will have to wait." The constable says seriously. "Brendan Brady you are under arrest for the murder of Danny Houston."

My mouth drops and tears spring into my eyes. Those near enough to hear her, gasp at her words.

Brendan looks at me. The only sign of shock is the momentary sway in his legs and the tick in his cheek. In an instant I know that he thinks I am the one who told them. How could he think that? I didn't. I wouldn't. Ever.

And yet he looks like he was expecting this of me. He nods slightly and looks away again.

I want to take a step to him but what would I do and say?

Noah encases me in his arms. I don't think he even knows that he is holding me back from my urge to run to Bren and comfort him.

Bren puts his arms out in front of him. He looks tired all of a sudden.

"Mitzeee, call me a lawyer."

And with that he gets handcuffed and unceremoniously taken out of the town hall.


	23. Chapter 22

_**Day 1. Hollyoaks ...**_

It is bloody difficult to get comfortable. This does not feel like my bed. Wait. This is not my bed. Where am I?

"About time, too. I was going to wake ye up in a second. I've got to get to school soon."

That's Peter's voice. Oh yeah. This is his sofa. I am in his house. And I am hung over.

Shit.

I squeeze my eyes against the realisation of what I did last night.

I came to Peter for sanctuary when my world was falling to pieces and he was the only person who I could think of to go to. What was I thinking? We aren't friends anymore. We can never be; not after I maimed him. He could never forgive me that.

I open my eyes and turn towards him.

Big mistake. I groan loudly.

I am sore all over like I have run three marathons back to back. My head feels like I have been kicked in by a herd of elephants. My mouth is so dry my tongue is lodged to its roof. And why is it so fucking bright?

I shut my eyes again.

"In pain?" Peter sounds annoyingly fresh.

I hear him wheel himself over to me and smell coffee. I bet he is wafting a mug under my nose so I swat my hand in front of me indicating him to piss off.

"Oi, watch it. You're going to spill it." He says. "I think ye drank yer weight in booze last night."

"Yeah." I mumble.

"Congratulations." He says drily.

"Thank ye." I groan and sit up really slowly before daring to open my eyes again.

Peter is dressed and ready for the day ahead with his satchel sitting in his lap.

I tentatively take the coffee mug out of his hand. I take a sip that becomes a thirsty gulp and I down it, not caring that it burns a path down my throat. He looks at me while I drink like I am some lab rat, ready to be dissected and studied. I need to get out of here before he decides to run a post-mortem on what happened when I came over last night.

"Do ye remember much, Bren?" He asks softly.

Too late.

I carefully put the empty mug on the floor.

"Bits and pieces." I say truthfully. I don't look at him when I add, "Ye shouldn't believe everything a drunk man says."

I stand up trying to make a quick exit but a wave of nausea causes me to fall back onto the sofa.

"Brendan, when I get drunk I don't reveal that I enjoy fucking my male ex-employee in _Look Sharpe_'s Jacuzzi."

I clear my throat in pent up anger as that feeling of being trapped and cornered comes over me.

"I thought ye and Stephen were through months ago."

"We were."

"That's not what ye said last night."

That's it. I am not staying for this shit. I get up a little more gingerly than my first attempt and head for the door.

"Why can't ye be honest about who ye are?" He says softly. "Life would be so much easier."

I turn to him. I don't get it. Is he being nice?

"I-" I begin. I don't know what I want to say but Pete is gently chipping away at my resistance. "I'm not-"

Queer. A fag. Bum-boy. Shit-stabber. Cock-sucker. Bent.

I'm not.

"Bren, last night I saw a man who was unhappy and broken because he was no longer with the man he loved."

"Lay off the romantic literature, will ye?" I sneer at him.

He ignores me. "Ye let Ste go to keep him safe because his association with ye made him vulnerable. Am I right?"

"I never said that."

Why are we talking about Stephen anyway? He is history and rehashing history has a habit of tearing my soul to pieces. Nothing good comes of it.

"No, but I read between the lines. You pushed him away by telling him how bad a man ye were. Why else would ye tell him about Danny Houston?"

My heart drops into my boots as I remember my confession.

Pete nods as he comes up to me by the door. "Yeah. Ye told me and ye told Stephen. Ye knew that he wasn't going to run into yer arms after ye admitted to killing a man. Ye deliberately pushed him away."

My mouth feels even drier than it did when I first woke up. I croak. Why the hell did I tell Peter? This is it. I am headed for jail. He'll dob me in to the cops.

"Don't worry. I am not going to tell anyone." He says. "I know Danny's reputation from back in the day. He was a shady fuck. I couldn't believe it when I heard that ye had got involved in his activities in Liverpool. He had no soul."

He studies me closely. "And I know that ye are no cold-blooded killer."

I scoff at the absurdity of his statement. Of course I am. I took a man's life.

"What I mean is that if someone threatened the life of someone I loved I would have that person's blood on my hands, too."

"Who's said anything about love?" I say sharply. "I don't love Stephen."

He responds by giving me a knowing smile that I want to wipe off his face. "I know how it feels to live with all yer feelings bottled up."

"Ye a psychologist now?" I say.

"No. I don't need to be one to see that ye are suffering." He grips my right wrist whose knuckles are raw from the punches I threw at Patrick at the gym. "The drinking, rage and fighting, maybe they are just outlets for yer pent up emotions."

"Ye think?" I say sarcastically but I hate how true his words ring.

"Yeah. When I found out I was never going to walk again I was angry and in denial, like ye are now. I wanted to hunt ye down and hurt ye at least as much as ye hurt me."

His hand tightens around my wrist painfully.

I look down at his hand and then his face. "Ye could have told the police that I pushed ye into the road."

"But it wouldn't have changed my situation. I was still going to be a wheelchair user. I had to find a way to embrace the new me. To move on and be happy with who I was."

"How?" I ask quietly. How do I come to terms with who I am?

"I talked to someone." He says.

He means professional help.

No.

I don't think so. That's not my style.

I stuff my hands into my pockets and then lean down to get in his face.

I sneer, "I am not mentally deranged."

"I am not saying ye are." He says ducking away from me as much as possible.

I stand up straight again and reflect. Pete is right about one thing. I need to get my head straight but I am going to do it my way by getting some answers and finding out why what happened yesterday happened.

"I think I'm going to get out of Hollyoaks for a few days."

-0-0-

I go home and manage to book a flight for the next day. I have a quick shower, change and pack an overnight bag. Chez still isn't home. I should speak to her before I go and give her my side of the story. I try calling her but she doesn't pick up so I call her boyfriend and business associate.

Warren doesn't pick up either.

So I call in at the club. I find Warren there working through papers in the office.

"Brendan! You're here nice and early."

I have noticed recently that he is taking on a lion share of the work at the club. I suspect that he has a better handle on its affairs than Chez has. She ought to be careful. She mustn't let her feelings cloud her business judgment. It is as if she is slowly letting him take over the whole show.

"Why aren't ye answering my calls?" I say.

He smiles at me. "Your sister has given me strict instructions."

"Where is she? I want to talk to her."

"She is sleeping at my place. She was crying half the night." He grins even more broadly. "And she tells me it is because you have been a naughty boy. It all came out last night when your mate from home spilt the beans to her." He tuts at me. "What is the penance for screwing your mate's life and fucking a young lad? Fifty Hail Marys and a twenty Our Fathers?"

He laughs.

I don't have time for his comments. "I know she won't talk to me now but let her know that I want to explain when she is ready, yeah?"

I turn to leave and Warren says,

"Oi! The truth was always going to come out in the end, Brendan."

"I am not the only one with secrets Warren. Just let her know I'm going to Ireland for a few days from tomorrow, okay?"

-0-0-

Later that day I walk into _Look Sharpe_.

"Brendan."

"Anthony." I say. "Office now."

He doesn't even bother complaining.

Once the door is closed, I ask,

"Where is Stephen?"

"Called in sick." He says. "He sounded pretty rough."

After what happened yesterday I am not surprised.

"Have you come to give me some more cash for his wages?"

I give him a cold grin. "Have I become that predictable?"

I reach into my pocket and give him a blank envelope full of money.

"If I didn't think there were ulterior motives at play I would think this was quite nice of you." Tony says as he takes it.

"Yeah well. I'm a bad man, Tony-Tone. Always assume an ulterior motive." There isn't by the way. Just because we are through doesn't mean I am going to stop helping Stephen out.

I walk out of the office and straight into Noah.

"Watch where ye are going!"

He scowls at me. "Ste isn't here today if you are looking for him."

I reply. "Who said I was here to see him anyway."

Of course I did look out for him when I came in.

"He was in pieces last night. Whatever you guys talked about really hurt him."

I act bored. "He has always been oversensitive."

Noah narrows his eyes at me. "Well you won't have to deal with him again. He wants nothing to do with you and we are making a go of things again."

His words feel like stab wounds to my heart but I try not to show any emotion. That was the whole point of yesterday; to sever ties.

"Good." I say softly. "Good. Really. He was getting unbearably clingy."

Noah grins like he can read through my facade. He leans into my ear and whispers, "By the way, I can see what the appeal is. Ste is pure dynamite in bed. He wore me out last night."

I open my mouth and ball my hands into fists but before I can throw a punch or a comeback in his direction he walks off towards the spa area.

-0-0-

_**Day 2. Dublin...**_

I land in Dublin just after midday the next day. I haven't been back to the city since Peter's accident. My Dublin. My hometown. The place I miss most in the world. I couldn't bring myself to go after all the memories. But I have a reason to go back now.

Once I land I hire a car and drive through streets that are familiar and different at the same time; changed by new developments and regeneration projects.

"_I'm making an honest living. I am working with Joseph now, Brendan."_

I park in the forecourt of a familiar car garage owned by Joseph O'Donovan, a father figure to a bunch of lads that came from wayward families within the area. I was one of them.

I find old Jo-Jo in the garage building, changing tires on a car, dressed in overalls and covered in grease. He wipes his hands on a dirty towel as he sees me approach. It takes a second for him to recognise me but then he is all smiles, dirty laughs, big manly hugs and back slaps. Seeing how he has aged highlights how much time has passed.

After comments on how I have grown, where all the time has gone and making sure the next visit is soon, he points round at the back yard,

"Yer in luck, Bren. He is in the yard."

I try to stay calm but I can already feel my blood boil as I walk to the closed off concrete yard packed with cars and parts. I spot his feet at the far end under a beat up vehicle. He must be lying on a creeper. I quickly look around. No one else is here. Good. I don't need witnesses.

"Paddy." I say loudly when I get to him.

I startle him. His head hits the underside of the car and he groans,

"Ouch! Fuck!"

Time for a showdown.

I pull at his feet and he slides easily from under the car into full view, clutching his forehead.

I lean over him and say with fake concern, "Have you got a boo-boo on your head?"

I don't wait for a reply. I grip the sides of his overall and pull him up to standing. He has a black eye from my attack on him at _Look Sharpe_ but other than that he has managed to preserve his looks.

"Brendan!" He gasps as I fling him against the car. "What are ye-?"

I push my palm onto his chest to keep him where he is. "What am I doing here? Really? Ye want to play dumb? Why don't we cut the bullshit and get down to business?"

"Fuck!"

"Yeah." I lick my lips menacingly. "Ye didn't think I would let ye slide, did ye? I am here for answers."

"About what?" Then he looks over my shoulder. I turn to see what his eyes are trained on.

"You lads alright?" Joseph calls out to us from the other side of the yard, peeking out of the garage.

Paddy nods quickly. I pat him on the shoulder. "Yeah. Yeah."

"I don't want trouble ye hear." He says.

"There's no trouble, Jo." I reply.

"Good. Cause you've been doing well, Patrick. Ye have kept yer nose clean; stayed out of trouble. I have been very proud of ye. Let's keep it that way."

I snort a laugh. Paddy. Clean. That's a laugh. Jo disappears back into the building and I haul Patrick into the car's passenger seat before walking round to sit in the driver's chair.

I lock the doors and turn to him.

"Talk."

He looks at me nervously. "Look I don't want trouble, Bren."

"Then why did ye come to Hollyoaks and fuck with my life?"

He stays quiet and looks down. "I told ye. I wanted to put the past in the past and move on."

I frown at him. "What does that mean?"

He sighs and rests his head back. "It doesn't matter. Look, what happened happened."

He closes his eyes and for a second I feel a sliver of pity. Patrick looks tired and defeated.

"I know I have fucked up, Bren." He swallows and I watch his Adam's apple bob up and down. "I didn't mean to. I had no choice."

"Did somebody send ye?"

He opens his eyes and turns their full beautiful chocolate glare on me. "I can't say."

I sit up straighter. "That's a yes. Who?"

"People I love could be hurt, Bren." He pleads.

"Ye have messed up my life." I say angrily. "My sister won't speak to me. And Stephen. I told ye to stay away from him."

His eyes shimmer with unspent tears. "Bren, I found out well before getting to Hollyoaks that ye were with Ste."

I feel a shiver of fear down my back.

"How? Who told ye?" Someone prompted Paddy to come to me after a ten year absence.

He looks at me with mournful eyes. He is practically plastered to the passenger door, trying to stay as far from me as possible.

"It must have sickened ye." I say. "Sleeping in my same room. Hugging me. Knowing what ye knew about me. Were ye biding yer time before you struck?"

"No." He says quietly. "I would have never beat ye up and believe me I had plenty of opportunity."

I laugh drily at this. " 'Scuse me if I don't applaud yer self-restraint."

There is a pause, then...

"I don't understand, Brendan. Ye aren't like all those shirt-lifters. " He says. "Ye were married to Eileen for years. Ye have children together." He says.

I clear my throat. "I love my boys and in a way I loved Eileen."

"How long were ye with Ste?"

I am shocked by his question. "What?"

"Have there been others?"

I cough self-consciously. "How is that any of yer business?"

He nods. "I guess it isn't." He stares ahead. "Ye have split with him, haven't ye?"

I stay quiet. Right then I get a crystal clear image of Stephen, naked and wrapped up around me in deep sleep, comfortable and at peace. Then it is superimposed by him doing the same to Noah.

Fuck.

"Not many would stuck around after finding out what ye had done."

I continue to stay quiet.

"That is what I wanted. I didn't want ye with that queer boy." Paddy whispers. "I am glad ye are through."

Of course he is. He has split up the faggots.

"Ye had better throw a party." I say sarcastically.

Patrick turns his body around in his seat so that he is facing me completely. He says nothing for a while. He just stares and then takes a staggered breath in and out.

"How does it feel?"

I frown. What is he talking about?

"When ye are ... intimate. How does it feel? Doesn't it feel wrong?" He asks.

Why is he asking that?

"Um."

He stares at my crucifix as it nestles on my chest.

"Tell me." He whispers.

"No." I croak and then clear my throat. There is a strange power I feel from being honest with the one person that I felt I could not be honest with when it came to my feelings for men.

"No. It doesn't feel wrong at all." I say. "It feels-"

I search for a word that explains it but I can't. Instead I remember the smell of Stephen, the touch of his hands and lips on me, the sounds he makes, the feel of his skin and hair, my dick buried deep in him.

There are no words to describe that.

Paddy nods at my expression. "Right. Okay. I get it."

"Why are ye asking, Paddy?"

"Bren, when ye get back, keep yer friends close but yer enemies closer." He says.

I frown.

"There are people around ye who are after yer blood."

I lean into him and grab his chin between my fingers firmly. "More than one?"

He blinks a couple of times as his eyes connect with mine, point blank. "Just be careful."

He blinks again.

"Fuck." He whispers as his eyes move down a little.

Then the most unexpected thing happens.

He pulls me to him and he kisses me.

Not a light peck. He fucking goes for it and I am so stunned that I am paralysed for a few moments before I push him away.

I stare back at him wide eyed and he looks right back at me, terrified.

Fuck me. My brain has short circuited. Patrick has just kissed me like he meant it.

I try to make sense of it all but I am struggling.

Paddy is a ladies' man. A player. And not only that. He hates gay people. He has slapped a few around in his time.

He scrambles for the door handle and stumbles out.

"Wait! Paddy!" I say and scramble out of the driver's seat. He walks briskly to the garage building.

"Paddy!" I run after him and grab his elbow.

He spins round quickly and slaps my hand away before giving me a shove. "Stay away from me, Bren!"

"Oh my God!" I say as the truth hits home.

Patrick is gay.

I stop in my tracks as I watch him go.

Patrick is so far in the closet that I am not sure he even knows he is in one. I suppose that explains the over-the-top homophobia, over-compensating womanising and heavy drinking.

I wonder whether he has ever had any encounters with men. I doubt it. I don't think he would let himself go there.

I walk into the garage. He isn't there.

"Jo, have ye seen Paddy?"

He points towards the forecourt. "What have ye done to him?"

"Nothing."

"I hope so because that man is trying to sort himself out Brendan and I don't want ye coming here and messing things up for him."

I nod. I actually believe Jo. Maybe I have looked at Patrick from the wrong angle all along, if you know what I mean. Maybe he is a version of me; fucked up by deeply kept secrets and lies.

I see him get into a car and run up to him. I hold the driver's door open to prevent him from driving off.

"Patrick. Look. I'm not going to tell a soul, okay."

"I don't know what ye are talking about." He says blankly.

I nod. "I get ye more than anyone else. Ye were jealous of Stephen or of me, weren't ye? That is why ye wanted to break us up."

"Fuck off."

"I liked Peter, Patrick. Yeah, like that. But ye know that now, don't ye? _I_ kissed _him_ that night not the other way around. I let ye beat him up and I pushed him into the road because I didn't want to admit the fact that I liked my best friend."

He looks at me with red eyes. His face is harsh; determined.

"I'm not like ye, Brendan." He pulls the door closed. "I ain't no filthy queer."

With that he drives off.

-0-0-

_**Day 3. Belfast...**_

My hands are laden with presents so I knock on the door to the family house that I once called home. I wait for a reply.

"Daddy!"

"Hey young man!" I say. My grin is huge as my younger son Paraic throws his arms around me.

"Ma, it's daddy!" He shouts.

Seconds later Declan walks towards the door. He is slightly unsteady on his feet but he does okay and his smile brightens the room. "Daddy?"

"Hey champ." I say, trying not to get emotional. The last time I saw them was months ago. This trip is long overdue. I feel like it has been years; they have grown so much. I drop the presents onto a table and then pull them both into a hug that I cannot let go of.

"Daddy, ye are squishing me!" Declan says in embarrassment.

"Deal with it." I murmur and then kiss the tops of their heads. This is one of my bigger regrets. That my boys live so far that I cannot be a part of their daily lives and see them grow into young men.

"Is mummy home?" I ask. I don't completely let go of them.

"Yeah, of course, she is making supper." Declan says. "I was helping."

Eileen walks through from the kitchen in an apron. Seeing the domesticity makes me realise how my absence is clearly not felt on a day to day basis.

"Brendan?"

"Eileen." I say. "I'm sorry I didn't call first."

"Is everything okay?" She says with concern.

I nod but there must be something in my expression that means she doesn't believe me.

"Daddy, can I show ye my car collection?" Paraic asks excitedly.

"I thought ye were doing homework." Eileen says.

"Done!" He says smugly. At seven years of age, he is a smart little fellow. He is consistently top of his class; destined to shine.

"Boys, I got ye some presents. Why don't ye open them up in yer rooms while I have a chat with yer mum?" I suggest.

"Did ye get us something cool from England?" Paraic asks.

"Why don't ye look and see?" I smile and wink.

"But I want to hang out with ye!" Declan moans.

"In a second." I promise.

They leave us and Eileen motions for me to follow her. I walk into the kitchen after her and watch while she stirs some sauce.

"How's Declan doing?" I ask.

"Yeah. Good. As ye can see his balance is better than when ye were here last time. The physiotherapy seems to be working."

"Good. I thought I was staring in the mirror when I saw him." I lean on a counter.

"He looks like ye did at nine." She says. "At least from what the pictures show."

"Yeah." I say. His dark spiky hair and blue eyes are a carbon copy of mine.

"Are we going to continue with small talk or are ye going to tell me what ye are doing here unannounced, Brendan?"

"When is the hubby coming home?" I ask.

"He is not my hubby." She says. "Ye know that."

"Fine. When is yer boyfriend coming home?"

"Any minute now."

"I shall keep this quick then." I say. "I think we should get divorced."

She stops her stirring and looks at me.

"What?"

"We have been separated for nine months."

"What's brought this on?" She asks.

"Things in my life." I say vaguely. "And it is not fair to ye. Ye may want to marry that knob-face at some point and last time I checked the law still wasn't hot on polygamy."

She takes the pot off the fire and gives me her undivided attention.

"Have ye found someone?" She asks.

I swallow. How ironic. "No."

I just lost someone. Thanks for asking.

"Okay." She drags out. "I think ye are right. We should get a divorce."

"Good. That's that then." I say. I take a deep breath in. "If it's okay, I'll hang out with the boys before I go."

"Sure." She nods. She is trying to suss out what has made me finally consent to what she has wanted since she found me in our bed upstairs balls deep in Macca.

I cough self-consciously. "By the way, Eileen, if ye and knob-face ever wanted to take a holiday together, ye could always ship the kids over to me. Ye should try Rome. I know a great hotel ye may want to check out. Apparently it is romantic in autumn."

"Are ye okay, Brendan?" She says with quiet concern.

"Yeah. Never better. Why?" I smooth my moustache and nod, hoping I come over convincing. "I'm going to-"

I point in the general direction of the kids' bedrooms and head out of the kitchen.

Another job done.

-0-0-

_**Day 5. Hollyoaks ...**_

"Come in."

I walk into the head teacher's office and Peter does a double take from his seat behind a large desk.

"Ye aren't Ruby Button." He says.

I raise an eyebrow as I close the door behind me and drape myself into the empty seat opposite him.

"No. No, I'm not." I say.

"What are ye doing here? I have a student to tell off in a minute." He says in annoyance.

"But Mr. Hamill, sir, I too have been a bad boy." I drawl.

"What do ye want, Bren?" He says in exasperation. "I think I liked it better when ye ignored me."

"That's mean."

"Get to the point." He says tapping his pen impatiently on the desk.

"I got back from Ireland yesterday."

Now it is his turn to raise a brow. "Did ye see Paddy?"

"Yes."

"Did ye find out why he was here?"

"Partly."

I don't say anymore to honour my promise to Patrick that I wouldn't tell a soul about his sexuality. Seeing how tortured Patrick is has helped me see what I was like and what I am like to an extent. It has shown me that I have made big steps since I was once like Paddy is now; in complete denial.

"Feel better?" Peter asks.

"Not really."

"What are ye going to do now?"

"Oh, I don't know. Same ol' same ol'." I say. "Wheeling and dealing."

Pete puts his fingers in his ears. "I'm not hearing this."

I shrug.

"Oh hey." He looks at me closely. "I should probably warn ye. Ste and Noah. They are an item again."

I nod in defeat. "I know. Good luck to them. I am sure some might say they make a good couple."

Peter puts his pen down and leans over the desk. "Ye know, for a tough guy ye are a bit of a pussy!"

Did I hear that right?

"If I loved some chick as much as ye clearly love that lad, I would be doing anything in my power to try and get her back. If it didn't work out then fair enough but at least I would have tried."

"It's not as easy as that." I mumble and rub my eyes wearily. "I fucking beat him up, Pete."

"Of course it isn't easy. It never is. But if ye are committed to change, is it not worth it?"

I stare at him.

"You are a ghost of yer former self, Brendan. Ye need to sort yerself out, mate."

I look at him. He is right. I need help.

-0-0-

_**Day 6. Chester ...**_

"This isn't a good idea." I say as Pete and I make our way into Chester town hall. "And I am late anyway."

He is grinning from ear to ear as his hands furiously push at his wheels. "It is a great idea!"

"Nobody wants me here."

"The old Brendan wouldn't care. Ye are here to see Stephen and talk to him." He says. "Tonight may be yer only chance to corner him before he goes back to avoiding ye."

"Why are ye so keen for me to be here?"

Pete stays quiet for a moment. "Maybe I am starting to get where ye are coming from. I have always had a soft spot for ye when ye have fucked up."

"Thanks."

"Ye are welcome." He smiles.

We part ways. Pete goes into the great hall where the show is and I go 'back stage'. The minute I walk into the changing room, it falls silent.

"What the fuck is he doing here?" Noah says as he shamelessly slips out of the most obscene white boxer briefs and into his white suit. By the looks of it I have missed all but the last portion of the show.

"Baby cakes!" Mitzeee says in surprise as she shimmies up to me in white underwear with a smile plastered on her face. "I didn't think you were coming."

She leans into my ear and hisses. "You nearly fucked up my night, Brendan. Do you know how many last minute changes I had to make because you failed to show up."

I take off my black suit jacket and shirt before putting only the jacket on again.

"I'm here now, aren't I?"

I smooth my suit down and grab my shades from my pocket before slipping out of my shoes and socks.

Paul, the wardrobe guy comes up to Mitzeee looking frazzled and asks,

"So are we going with plan A or plan B? The audience is waiting."

Mitzeee looks between me and Noah. We stare each other out. I smack my gum at him and smile.

"Plan A." She says.

I crack my knuckles; bring it on.

As Noah and I stand side by side offstage waiting our turn to hit the catwalk, he whispers to me,

"I thought you were out of town."

"I wouldn't miss this for the world."

He smiles sideways at me. "You must be a glutton for punishment, Brendan."

"What do ye mean?"

His smile is cold. "I fucked Ste so hard last night, it is a miracle either of us can walk straight today."

He walks onto the catwalk and strikes a pose. His expression is concentrated as he stares ahead. I follow him out itching to beat the shit out of him but instead I stare towards the end of the catwalk too.

We start walking and as we get near the end I see him in front of me.

Stephen.

Fuck me, he looks hot. Noah and I get to the end and I stop and stare.

The last time I saw Stephen, I had left him in _Look Sharpe._

I take my sunglasses off. It is not in the script but I want to take a good look at him. He looks back at me. He doesn't look away and it feels like he is mine once again.

Peter is right. I need to talk to him. I don't know what I hope to achieve but I need to spend some time with him alone... and I don't know, say something.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" Noah says.

And that bursts the bubble.

Ye know what happens next; a scrap between two dogs who are after the same bone until we are split apart.

Mitzeee decides that this is the time to have a go at me when all I want to do is beeline to Stephen and take him outside. The fact that he keeps looking over at me doesn't help.

I am so aware of him and being distracted by Mitzeee that I do not notice the police until the chief constable speaks.

I know straight away why they are here.

"Brendan Brady you are under arrest for the murder of Danny Houston."

I look at Stephen straight away. He looks devastated. I didn't expect that but it gives me comfort because even if it was him who told the police, I know that he still feels something for me.

It sounds fucked up but I have the hint of a grin as I get carted off.

-0-0-

"Brendan Brady?"

I look up from my cell sluggishly. I have been here overnight and already I can feel my life drifting from me. "Who's asking?"

"You have a visitor. Come on. Five minutes."

I follow the prison guard to a room that has two chairs on opposite sides of a table.

I take a seat and wait patiently.

When the person comes in, they walk towards me as if readying to give me a hug. I can't tell ye how happy that makes me. I never thought this person would come back into my life.

"I'm sorry miss, but no body contact."

Cheryl is in tears.

"But he is my brother."

**...**

**...**

**I know that this chapter was a bit of a downer but I felt I had to make it 'realistic'. What happens to Ste and Bren? ... Well, I am a sucker for a happy ending, so... ; ) keep reading to find out ...**


	24. Chapter 23

Amy, Lee, Riley and Doug are laughing uncontrollably.

"Wait! Wait! That wasn't even the punch line!" Noah says as he leans across the dining table that we are all sat around at _Mai Thai_, a posh Thai restaurant in town. "Basically, I had to lay a wet one on him to convince him I wasn't after his missus!"

"You kissed him!" Amy shrieks in glee.

"Yeah!" He says. "That showed him!"

"You've got to tell Dino when he comes tomorrow!" Riley says gasping with laughter.

"Yeah! I will!"

Dino is a friend of theirs and Ethan's from school. They are going to catch up over a night out tomorrow. I look at them as they all chortle away at Noah's story. I heard it before on the night of our first 'date' at the _SUBAR._

Strange. I feel totally removed from all the fun and joy, like am not really here with him or our mates. His hand doesn't feel like it is really intertwined with mine on the table and the Asian flavours and sounds around me don't penetrate my senses.

I look up.

They are all looking at me like I am not okay.

"Hey." Noah says gently. "You with us, handsome?"

"Um, yeah." I mumble and quickly pick up a spring roll. "Why?"

I stuff the spring roll into my mouth. It tastes like saw dust.

Ames looks at me closely. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing." I say. "I guess it's been a long day at work."

Riley giggles to himself.

"What's so funny?" Doug asks.

"Just that as much as Ste feels like he has had a long day it pales into insignificance when you compare it to Brendan Brady's first full day in jail."

Brendan.

I can't get him out of my head. That is what my silence is about but you guessed that, didn't you? I keep seeing him in my mind being taken away by the cops at the charity fashion show last night. I imagine him alone in a dark cell, trying to be tough but feeling alone and uncared for. Let's face it; he isn't exactly popular in the village, is he? There are those who would celebrate if he was put away for good, some of my present company included.

And I have heard that the one person, who was his constant ally, Chez, has turned her back on him.

I want to go to him and tell him that I care. Still. Always.

"So like, does that mean he is in for life?" Amy asks.

"Not necessarily." Doug says. "They'll be asking him questions, trying to figure out what happened exactly. If the prosecution thinks they have a case he will be tried in a court of law."

"You don't think he really did it, do you?" She asks.

"The fact that they have arrested him means that they must have something pretty solid to pin on him." Riley says.

"He is a bit scary, though, in'e, babe." Lee says to Amy. "Not that he fazes me, mind. But he does that thing with his 'tache and fingers."

Noah says. "Whatever. He can rot in jail for life for all I care."

"Too right!" Riley says.

God, they really hate him, don't they?

"I wonder how he killed Danny Houston." Noah says. "Or when?"

"I don't know." Doug says carefully then goes all pensive.

"What?" Riley asks him.

Doug replies. "It's probably not related but last Monday at rehearsals I realised that Brendan definitely has something to hide."

"Why?" Noah asks.

"Remember I asked him about his weekend in Rome?"

I look sharply at him. Where is Doug going with this?

"Yeah, you freak!" Riley laughs and turns to me to explain. "Brendan went to Barcelona on business but for some reason Doug thought he had whisked Mitzeee off for a romantic weekend away."

"Really?" I say. My mouth feels dry. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. I never told Noah that I got back together with Bren when we were on our break. He would be pissed off if he found out.

"The thing is Brendan wasn't in Barcelona last weekend." Doug says lifting his eyebrow.

"What do you mean?" Noah says.

Doug leans in and prompts everyone to huddle in closer to him. "I didn't want to say anything before but since he can't touch me now, what the hell ... I booked a room for him in a very nice, pricey hotel in the centre of Rome; high ceilings, chandeliers, killer room service ... double bed. You know what I'm talking about." He says suggestively. "Romantic."

I stare at him and clutch at my seat. Am I about to be busted in front of everyone?

Amy stares me down as if she is trying to piece this new information together. I don't like how she frowns at me.

"That was the weekend you went to see your aunt." She says slowly. "The one you said you hated before."

I nod curtly; nervously.

"But Mitzeee acted as if she didn't know anything about Rome." Riley looks confused at Doug.

"That's because I reckon Brendan is cheating on her and took another woman on that trip."

Noah smirks at this. "Yeah whatever."

"What's your explanation then?" Doug retorts.

Noah laughs at that. "All I know is that Brendan doesn't have eyes for any other woman, trust me."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lee asks.

Noah says. "Nothing." He gives my hand a reassuring squeeze and I sigh with relief. He hasn't even entertained the idea that I was the one with Brendan. How trusting...

Amy stares at me with dagger eyes. If only she could be so trusting...

I bow my head, trying to avoid eye contact with her and shove a forkful of _Pad Thai_ into my gob as distraction.

"Stephen, can I have a word?" She sneers.

I look at her as innocently as I know how and point at my plate. "Um, no. I'm busy eating, right."

"It won't take a moment." She says with the same cool calm voice she uses on the kids when they have been naughty. "Sorry guys, it's about our children."

She grabs my elbow and drags me out of the restaurant's front doors.

"So how was your aunt's place again?" She asks angrily.

"I told you, yeah." I swallow nervously. "Good."

She grinds out. "Fucking hell, Stephen! You were in Rome? With Brendan!"

"No!-"

"Don't you dare lie to me." She hisses. "What is wrong with you? Why can't you keep away from him?"

"I am keeping away from him." I say quietly. "I'm with Noah now."

She shakes her head in disbelief, "You got whisked off out the country by him a week ago! You call that 'keeping away'?"

"Yeah, but-"

She raises her hand to stop me speaking. "You are something else, Ste. You lied to my face ... for him!"

I grip her arms to get her hysteria under control. "I'm sorry, okay!" I plead quietly and glance into the restaurant. Everyone at our table is looking at us. Thank goodness they can't hear our conversation.

I turn back to her. "It's just that I knew you wouldn't understand. You hate Brendan. Everyone does. There was no chance you would have approved."

"I wonder why? You never really split up, did you?" She asks.

"We did but then we got back together." I hang my head in shame.

"It's the same story over again, Ste."

I hunch my shoulders in defeat. "This time it's final. We're through for good."

'_Ye are better off without me, Stephen.'_

'_I am going to tell ye a story and I want ye to listen. And after I want ye to walk away and I don't want ye to ever come back.'_

"Why should I believe you?" Amy says.

"Because we can't be together." I say. "Not anymore."

... Not after what he told me. I knew that Brendan walked on the wrong side of the law from time to time but this was something else. He assaulted his own sister, disabled his own best friend. He murdered a man.

I can't get over that. He is a sociopath or maybe a psychopath. I don't know, but only someone seriously disturbed could do something like that. Why did he do it and how?

I feel tears spring to my eyes.

"Ste." Amy's voice becomes gentler as she touches my arm. "Ste, you have got to believe you are better rid. You don't want to be involved with someone like that. You are a father. You have a responsibility to our children. They need to be safe and he is dangerous. His arrest is proof of that."

"I know." I say quietly as I rub my tears.

"He may have committed a murder."

"Yeah." There is no maybe there but I don't tell her that. I try to compose myself.

"You okay?" She looks at me with concern.

"Never better." I say. "My ex just got arrested for murder but other than that everything is great."

"Aw." She pulls me into her arms and whispers into my ear. "Every day, you'll feel better. You'll see."

I'll be honest guys, it doesn't feel like it.

"Yeah." I mutter.

"Let's go back in before the guys start wondering what we are up to."

I nod and we walk back into the restaurant to join our friends and boyfriends.

"You guys, okay?" Lee asks when we take our seats.

"Yeah." Amy says quickly and gives him a peck on the lips. "Good news. The kids are fine with my dad tonight so you can stay over at mine and Ste can stay over at Noah's."

I open my mouth to protest but it is soon covered by Noah's mouth so I let myself be kissed.

"Lucky me." Noah murmurs with a soft grin which I return.

I suppose it's not really a relationship if you refuse to hang out with your own boyfriend.

-0-0-

I walk into the familiar dark room and immediately know I am in my recurring nightmare; the one I have when I am not together with Bren.

"Don't be shy, Ste. Come in!" Warren says with a wide grin.

Like usual the panel sit in a row facing me behind a dark long table. Their faces are spotlighted from below by soft lighting. Pete, Amy, Macca, Mitzeee, Paddy, Rae, Warren and Noah. But this time there is someone new.

Cheryl.

Of course, now she knows about Brendan and me, too.

"You're looking tired, Ste." She comments. "Stuff on yer mind?"

I swallow nervously.

"Guilt?" She adds with a creepy smile on her face. "'Cos, I'd feel guilty if I were you."

"Why? I've got nothing to feel bad about."

"You still think about Brendan even though you are with me now." Noah says leaning over the table.

"I don't." I lie and they all laugh.

"You do." Amy insists.

"You went off on holiday together." Mitzeee says. "You've been carrying on in secret for weeks... again."

"Why am I here again?" I ask shakily. I look around for Brendan, squinting slightly in case I am faced with him bloodied and broken on the floor the way he always is at the end of my exchange with my judges.

Paddy grins. "You know the drill by now."

"You want to know why I love Brendan." I say. It is the same question every time and my answer never satisfies them.

Mitzeee nods.

I take a deep breath in and lie. "I don't."

It is barely a whisper.

"You are lying." Pete says.

"No." I fight back tears. "So none of you has a hold on us anymore. You wanted us apart. Well done. You have got it. Just stop torturing him and let him go. I'm tired of this!"

Warren cackles, "Oh Ste! You are fooling no one. It is obvious you still love that waste of space."

"Ye two are so pitiful, pining over each other; together one minute and apart the next." Paddy says. "The drama would be cute if ye were teenage star-crossed lovers in a Shakespeare play. But ye are no Romeo and Juliet, Ste. Ye are pathetic."

"And now your ex-lover is in jail." Rae says. "What are you going to do about it?"

They all look at me.

"Yeah, Ste. What are you going to do?" Noah says and his question echoes as the room goes pitch black.

The panel is gone.

I don't know what I am going to do. Move on? Try to anyway?

A light turns on in a corner of the room and as usual Bren is there, a breath away from death, beaten on the floor, calling my name. I try to run to him the way I always do but my feet are stuck to the floor. I try to scream but nothing comes out. I try to move but I am motionless.

Brendan!

-0-0-

"Ste!" Noah says urgently.

I sit bolt upright in his bed and realise that a scream is dying from my lips. I get my bearings and turn to him.

"Noah?" I rasp.

He rubs his eyes tiredly and then leans over to stroke my cheek.

"You were crying again." He whispers as he rubs tears between his fingers.

I dry my eyes and run both hands through my hair. I force that feeling of doom in my chest to go away.

"Um. Yeah. It's a nightmare I keep getting, you know. I shouldn't eat cheese before bed." I say. The cheese he insisted I eat when we got in because he reckoned I didn't eat enough at the restaurant.

"I'm worried about you, baby." He says quietly. "You seem unsettled to me."

"I'm fine. I promise." I smile at him in the dark.

He pulls me to him under the bed covers and rubs my back soothingly.

"Yeah?" He whispers.

I nod slowly. No, I'm not. I'm a fucking wreck.

He smiles. "Good. I thought maybe we could cheat today and I could make us a fry up. Sound good?"

"I'm not really hungry."

"But you need to fill up for the day." He lifts up a suggestive eyebrow. "You hardly ate yesterday and then we burned some energy when we got in ..."

I close my eyes and remember our bedroom antics last night. "Yeah."

Noah is so nice but I am pissed off that I can't meet him halfway when it comes to our feelings for each other. I think he loves me; he tells me he does anyway.

"And Ste, I am worried that you aren't eating enough. You aren't taking care of yourself."

"Yeah I am." I'm not. I feel like there is a permanent lump in my throat. Brendan-sized. It makes me lose my appetite.

"And you blank out a lot, babe. Sometimes I feel like you aren't really here with me."

"I am." I'm not. I am always in my thoughts; thoughts of my ex. It is like a disease I can't shake.

Noah kisses me briefly. "Alright. If you say so. Maybe we need a break away. How about the Lakes? We could jet ski on Windermere."

I sit up and swing my feet over the bed. "Yeah."

I stand up naked as the day I was born and grab a bath towel.

"You could sound more enthusiastic."

I turn to my boyfriend and give him the best smile I can. "I'm sorry. Yeah, I would love to, really. It would be fun."

He grins and points at the towel in my hand. "It's only 4.30 am."

"Really?"

He nods.

Fucking nightmare.

He stretches his arm out to me. "Come back to bed. I think your sexy self could do with a little more sleep."

I drop the towel and smile back. Yeah. Noah is nice. I should stop being a sulky idiot and invest in my relationship with him 100 percent.

I raise an eyebrow to him. It is my turn to be suggestive. "Sleep?"

His grin gets impossibly big. "Why, Mr Hay, are you suggesting something more energetic?"

"Maybe."

And I jump back into bed.

-0-0-

Later in the day I make myself a cup of tea in the office at _Look Sharpe_ on my morning break. The kettle has just about boiled when I hear the reception bell ring. I sigh. No rest for the wicked, huh?

I step out into the reception area and do a double take.

"Hello Ste." Cheryl says.

"Chez!" I say.

This is awkward. I haven't seen her since I quit _Chez Chez_, remember? So much has happened since then. For one, she now knows that I am the guy her closeted older brother has been having an on-off secret affair with for months.

"I wanted to speak with ye." She says quietly. I have never seen her like this. She looks tired. Her eyes are bloodshot.

"Sure."

"In private."

I nod. "I was on my break so-" I point to the office and lead the way in.

We sit down.

"I am still in shock, Ste."

I nod but I am not sure what she is referring to. "About the arrest?"

"That too but that is not why I am here." She says. "Patrick told me that you and Bren were involved."

"Yeah."

"It hurt, Ste, to find out that way. I thought I was close to my brother but he obviously didn't feel the same because he couldn't share something as important as his sexuality with me. I was angry with ye because I thought ye were a mate and ye had carried on behind my back with my brother. I felt betrayed by both of ye."

"I am sorry, Chez." I feel shit.

Her eyes are waterlogged. "Ye have nothing to apologize for, Ste. I get it now."

I am confused.

"I went to Chester prison yesterday. Bren explained everything."

I sit up straighter. She saw him! How was he? Is he holding up okay?

"He told me that he forced ye to keep things quiet. " She takes a shaky breath in and out. "He told me that he beat ye up, Ste."

I am surprised. He admitted that to his sister; the one person that he strives to only show his good side to.

"He did?"

"Yeah." She shakes her head. "I am the one that is sorry, Ste. For not being there for ye when ye needed and for what my brother did to you. I remember yer bruises. Now I know why ye quit the job at the club. You wanted to get away from him."

"I left the club because we split up not because he hit me. The abuse stopped months before that."

"Then why did you break up?"

"I refused to stay in the closet for him and I can't take the baggage that comes with him. Anyway, it doesn't matter. I am with Noah now so..."

"Yeah. I know." She replies.

"And I'm happy. I have moved on. Really."

"Ste. I would love it if ye came back to work at _Chez Chez_. We all miss ye there."

"I miss you guys, too." I say honestly. "But I don't think I could deal with seeing Bren there when he gets released."

"Ye think he is going to be freed?" She says.

I think about this. Yeah, he committed the crime but my mind and body cannot accept that he will be put away.

"He has to." I whisper. Because if he doesn't I don't think my heart will cope.

She nods. "Ste, I want ye to know that my brother is not a cold blooded murderer, whatever people say about him."

"You don't think he killed Danny?"

"That is not what I said." Chez stands up and I copy her. Her eyes go redder. "What I mean is my brother has principles. Morals. If he killed Danny it was because he was trying to protect a loved one."

"You think so?" I ask. Maybe Brendan's motive was selfless. I mean, if someone threatened the life of one of my kids or Amy I would do anything to protect them.

Anything.

Maybe Danny threatened Cheryl's life. After all, she dropped him as a silent partner and went into business with her boyfriend, Warren. Maybe he got angry and planned to take her out and Brendan found out.

"I know so." She says empathically. "He is my brother."

"How's he holding up, Chez?" It slips out before I can stop myself. God, I sound desperate to know.

She smiles ironically. "Trying to be tough. You know Bren."

"Yeah. Yeah I do."

-0-0-

At the end of my working day I thank God for Dino, Noah's friend from school who is in town. Remember I told you? They are out and about with Riley and Ethan for the evening. I didn't feel up to joining them. It was just going to be them talking about their school days anyway. Plus I feel like being alone tonight.

But first I hit the empty gym while Tony is balancing the books in the office before he locks up. I know. It's Noah's influence but I like exercising now. It keeps me focussed on something other than how unsettled my life feels.

I stare ahead as I run at full pelt on the treadmill with dance music blaring through my earphones.

I wonder if Chez is right. Maybe Bren did kill Danny out of love for her. Not that it changes anything between us. We still did the right thing by going our separate ways.

Noah is good for me.

I turn up the speed on the treadmill to try and concentrate on the strain on my body rather than the thoughts in my head.

That's better. I quickly get breathless and my heart beat speeds up impossibly. After a few minutes, I feel sweat pouring off my body. I wipe my brow. Then gradually my legs get heavy and I feel light headed but I don't stop. I want to push my limits.

After a while, I feel dizzy and I stumble. I am being stupid. I''m going to faint if I'm not careful so I slow the pace down and then stop the treadmill completely.

Maybe I should have eaten more than half a full English breakfast and a couple of apples today.

I feel sick as I step off the machine unsteadily, suck on my water bottle and lie on the floor on my back. I take large gulps of air in as I stare at the ceiling and feel much better.

A shadow casts over me.

"Ye trying to kill yerself, Stephen?"

Peter looks down at me. He is dressed casually; not for gym or school. I bristle at his use of my full name. Only one person uses my birth name like that.

"Um, no." I mumble. "What are ye doing here?"

"Tony let me in. I was looking for ye."

"Yeah?" I sit up.

"Yeah." He says seriously. "I think ye should cut Brendan some slack."

"Excuse me!"

"Hear me out." He says. "He is in real trouble, Ste. Right now there are no other suspects for Danny's murder, the police have a murder weapon with Bren's finger prints on it and he has no alibi."

My mouth goes dry. "How do you know all this?"

"That's not important. The point is if this goes to trial I don't think he will get acquitted." He looks at me closely. "Especially since you and I both know he did it."

My jaw drops.

"He told me, too." He says simply.

"But. I don't ... I." I can't speak. "I thought you weren't speaking to each other after everything."

"You mean after what got me into this wheelchair? I made my peace with what happened long before Brendan did." He says without further explanation. "He is my friend and right now he needs people who care about him even though he won't admit it. He needs our support, Ste."

I shake my head. "No. I can't."

"I know ye had a difficult relationship with him."

I scoff at that. Difficult! That is like saying having cancer is 'annoying'.

"I am not excusing his violence towards you, Ste. It was unforgivable. He is more upset about what he has done to ye than ye can ever imagine."

I doubt that.

"But growing up all Bren knew were fists. He got a slap around by his dad. He tried so hard to please his old man but nothing was good enough. Bren was the family's breadwinner from a young age because his dad was a drunken waste of space. School got in the way of earning money and with no qualifications he made a living the only way he knew how. That is why he is good at the wheeling and dealing, lying and scheming.

"For as long as I have known Brendan he has put up a shield to protect himself from getting hurt because all he knows is that love is rewarded with pain. That is why makes himself emotionally unbreakable. He hates feeling vulnerable. He lashes out and tries to get control again. Does that sound familiar?"

I stay quiet as Pete's words sink in.

"That is why you scare him so much, Ste."

"Yeah right! _I_ scare _him_!" I say.

"Yes. Ye must know that ye are his Achilles heel."

"His what?"

"His weakness. He has used his fists and words to push ye away but ye both can't stay away from each other, can ye? Do ye know why he was at that fashion show? It was because he wanted to speak with ye. He wanted to win ye back and start again."

I stand up and look down at Pete.

"Okay, nice theory right, but you are talking shit. Brendan doesn't know what being in a relationship means. We are through. Forever. End of, yeah. I am in a proper relationship now."

"I get that, Ste, but-"

"Look, I am not involved in Brendan's life anymore!" I say angrily.

Pete laughs. "Oh please, Ste, of course ye are involved. This is all about ye, ye eejit!"

"Don't call me an idiot!"

He looks at me incredulously. "Do you seriously not see why he is locked up right now?"

I shake my head.

"Brendan is in love with ye, Ste!"

"What?" That light-headedness comes back and I lean against a wall for support. "No, he isn't. Seriously. I fooled myself into believing that he loved me before but he doesn't, Pete. He likes sleeping with me when he feels like it, that's all."

"Tell yerself that if it makes it easier for ye to stay away from him. But I know the truth. He wanted to protect ye, Stephen. He knew he would lose ye for good if Danny got his hands on ye."

I think my subconscious gets what Pete is saying before my conscious self because I start shaking uncontrollably.

"No." I whisper.

"Yes." Pete insists. "Danny Houston said he would kill ye because Brendan refused to do a job for him and betrayed him."

I shuffle away from Pete. "Please stop talking. Don't-"

"Ste, Brendan killed Danny out of love for ye, to protect ye."

I feel my throat tighten up. No. Pete must be lying.

It can't be true.

-0-0-

"_Ste, Brendan killed Danny out of love for ye, to protect ye."_

I sit on a bench in Hollyoaks Park. It is probably not the wisest move in the dead of night but it is quiet and isolated; perfect for a mental breakdown.

Brendan killed Danny for me. I can't get my head around it. I feel angry, guilty, upset and grateful all at once.

What am I supposed to do with this information? Why did Pete tell me? Why has he messed with my head?

This is so fucked up because on one hand, I want to run through the village screaming at the top of my lungs that Brendan loves me. Me. Can you believe it? It is crazy. On the other hand I want to cry until my body runs dry because he is in jail now for committing a crime of passion.

He has blood on his hands.

My phone beeps twice in quick succession.

Message number one,

...

Tuesday, _**22.15**_**. **

**From: Mr. Muscles**

_Babe, we are in the SUBAR. Come! Dino wants to meet you! Xxx_

...

Tuesday, _**22.17**_

**To: Mr. Muscles**

_In bed already. Sorry. Have fun and see you tmrw. X Ste_

...

I check the next message,

...

Tuesday, _**22.15**_.

**From: PeteTeach**

_Ste, what were ye doing on the 28__th __of December last year?_

...

I frown in confusion. What? Has Pete lost the plot? I text back,

...

Tuesday, _**22.20**_

**To: PeteTeach**

_Why?_

...

On December 28th, I dropped the kids and Amy off at the bus station to spend the holidays with their granddad. I stayed back because I couldn't pass up on the extra pay at work.

I went straight to _Chez Chez _after. That afternoon Warren was alone in the club. He told me I wasn't needed because he and Bren had decided to not open for business to allow for a staff holiday. He looked on edge so I didn't argue that I was counting on that day's extra money to help pay off some bills.

Instead I bought a packet of mince pies at _Price Slice_ and ate them while watching shit Christmas telly alone all day, persuading myself that I was better off without Bren since he walked out on me at the gay bar a week previously.

Why does Pete need to know that?

My phone beeps again:

...

Tuesday, _**22.23**_.

**From: PeteTeach**

_What were ye doing on the 28__th__ of December...? Think ..._

...

So I do. I think hard and it clicks.

I get it.


	25. Chapter 24

It is my second morning in jail and I am going stir crazy already. My two nights have been torture so far. Not because of anything physical. The mental strain is what's getting to me; the prospect that this may be how the rest of my life is going to be.

Right now I am in an interrogation room, sitting at a table, handcuffed and facing Detective Ethan Scott.

"Where were you on December 28th 2010?"

"I'm not talking to ye without the presence of my lawyer, baby-cop." I say. "Do you mind if I call you that? No? Good."

"Look, Brady, I have told you already I am just questioning you."

"Excuse me if I remain sceptical. I have spent two nights in jail after being told I was being charged for murder only for ye to tell me that I am 'just a suspect' now."

"We had good reason to move for a charge but we have another compelling suspect now." Ethan says.

"Do we now?" I wonder who that is. Warren?

"This doesn't mean you are off the hook. We can hold you for questioning for up to 72 hours so I would welcome your co-operation for the next day."

I laugh.

"What is so funny?"

"Baby-cop, with all due respect you are an eejit. Where is your senior? Why have they given this case to a moron?"

"You want to be careful, Brendan, or I'll hold you in contempt."

"Oooh!" I pretend to act like I am scared. "Are ye sure because ye seem to change yer charges at the drop of a hat."

"Where were you on the evening of December 28th, 2010?" Ethan says impatiently. "We have strong reason to believe that is when Danny Houston was killed. He last used one of his credit cards that morning and one of his girlfriends walked into a police station the next morning worried that he hadn't turned up for a booty call the night before."

"December 28th you say. It was a long time ago. Let me think. Oh yeah, I was in Chester in the morning sorting out a drinks order for the club's New Year's Eve party."

This is not a lie. We needed to order some more last minute booze. I have the invoice to prove it.

"Then?"

"Then I got back to the club and Warren and I decided not to open the club that night." I say.

"Any particular reason? Doesn't make business sense to close a club during the Christmas season."

"Call it a Christmas gift to our staff. They deserved a break. I'm all give, give, give detective."

Ethan raises an eyebrow. "How convenient; an empty club with no witnesses."

"What are you suggesting?" I ask.

"I'm asking the questions here." He says. "Then what did you do?"

"Don't remember exactly. Carol singing? Hugging strangers? Passing on the Christmas fever?"

"Were you in Hollyoaks?"

"Where else?"

"Who with?"

"I can't remember."

"But you were with someone. Warren?"

"As I said, I can't remember." I was killing a man with Warren as my witness, judge... in the cellar... with a hook. Then we spent the night dumping his body.

"Did you see anyone who could state your whereabouts the rest of the day, Brendan?"

"I can't remember."

Baby-cop stares me down and changes tact when he sees he has hit a brick wall. He asks me questions about Danny; how I know him, for how long, what our relationship was.

"You were friends?"

"Never. Business partners. Is that a crime?"

"No, but money laundering is. We know that Danny Houston used to pour drug money into the club you ran for him in Liverpool to clean it up."

I try to keep cool but I can feel a tick in my right cheek. "I wouldn't know anything about that."

"Did you know he was doing that same with _Chez Chez_; investing in legitimate business with illegitimate money?"

"No. He wasn't." Of course he was. Danny was a slippery fellow. When I asked him to be silent partner for my sister's business I was in no doubt that his money was dirty but where else was Chez going to find such a big investor so quickly?

Sometimes ye have to swim with sharks to catch yer fish.

"He was and I believe that you found out and you didn't like it one bit because your sister's reputation and livelihood were in jeopardy. So you took the law into your own hands and decided to get rid of the mobster."

I smile. "Are ye asking or saying, Ethan?"

"Is that what happened?"

"No."

"Did you kill Danny Houston, Brendan?"

I laugh outright and I know that my eyes must look crazed. And then I stop abruptly. "No Ethan. No, I did not."

"So explain this." He throws a metal rod contained in a clear plastic bag onto the table between us with a clang.

My palms feel sweaty as I recall hitting Danny over and over again in the head with it when I was in a trance of pure molten rage.

I point at it and will my finger to stop shaking. "That, detective, is a metal crate opener. We use them at the club to open our drinks deliveries."

"It does belong to your club. Can you explain why this one has Danny Houston's blood, bone and brain tissue on it?" Ethan asks calmly.

I rub down my moustache and my cheek twitches uncontrollably. "No. Ye should ask the murderer."

"Can you explain why this one has Danny Houston's blood, bone and brain tissue on it?" He repeats.

I grin coldly. "I see what ye did there. Funny."

"It has your fingerprints on it."

"Are ye telling me that mine are the only fingerprints on it?" I ask.

He stays quiet.

"Thought not. Ye'll find my fingerprints on most things at the club. I am hands on, me." I am playing it cool but this is not looking good. "We could use it once it has had a bit of a clean. Teeth don't work as well at opening crates. Where did ye find it by the way?"

"We got a tip off, Brendan. Why don't you leave the questions to me, huh?"

I lean back in my seat. "I think I would like my lawyer after all."

Ethan smiles lopsidedly. "Getting a little nervous now?"

"No."

Just then a uniformed officer walks into the room and leans in to whisper in Ethan's ear. Diaper-cop widens his eyes in surprise and then composes himself.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

"Yes."

He stands up and stares me down.

"Stay here."

Baby-cop is gone for nearly half an hour when a guard walks into the room and says,

"We are taking you back to your cell, Brady."

I mentally go to panic stations. What the hell is happening? Have they found further evidence that digs me in deeper? Is the second suspect in the murder crossed off their list of 'whodunit'?

"Where is detective Scott?" I ask.

"He has been pulled to another job."

"Good." I say calmly as I stand up, handcuffed, and follow two other guards out of the room. "I was thinking about making my cell more _feng shui_, anyway."

-0-0-

I have been waiting in my cell all day since speaking to Ethan this morning. There is no natural light so my only sense of time comes from the black and white clock hanging from the wall.

I need a lawyer. This is not looking good at all. Why did Ethan have to go all of a sudden and why is no one telling me anything? I don't know what they have on the other guy that they are holding for questioning but I doubt it is a murder weapon with suspect finger prints and victim DNA on it.

How the fuck did they find it? Did Warren tell them? The fucking bastard! I thought we had a deal.

I am not answering any more questions until I have my solicitor with me.

As I stare at the dark grey four solid walls that surround me I feel like the world has forgotten me.

Not that anyone would miss me.

Stephen has moved on with that poser from the gym. Though I understand why he would want to get his revenge on me, it fucking hurts like a bitch to think that he might have been the one to give my name to the police.

Pete might miss me a little but we have only just rekindled our friendship and he hasn't come to visit me in jail.

Cheryl will pine after me, bless her. She came yesterday, the morning after my arrest. We kind of made up. She was angry, mind. Couldn't understand why I had kept the fact that I like getting with men from her. She was particularly upset that I kept my involvement with Stephen from her. She was disappointed that I was a more evil human than she could possibly imagine; a thief, drug dealer, best friend beater and murder suspect. I admit it is a lot to find out about the brother you have always looked up to.

I thought I would take the opportunity to confess just how shit I had been with Stephen. Yeah, just to really make her see how fucked up her sweet older brother is. I told her. She was horrified. Job done. It is what I do; push the people I care about away.

The bottom line is there aren't too many in the world that would shed a tear over me being put away.

I fall asleep out of sheer boredom and exhaustion but find myself tossing and turning all night long.

I am woken up early the next day by the door to the cell unlocking from the outside. A guard walks in. It is 6 am.

"Detective Scott will see you now."

"About fucking time, too."

-0-0-

"Who were you with after lunch on December 28th 2010, Brendan?" Ethan asks.

"That question again. I said I can't remember."

"He said you might say that." He smiles coldly.

"Who?"

Is he talking about Warren?

"You really are something, aren't you?" He shakes his head with an incredulous look on his face.

"Can I get my lawyer now?"

"You don't need one."

I frown.

"You are like one of those Russian dolls, Brendan Brady. You take off one layer only to discover another one and I was not expecting _that_ layer!"

"Care to say something that makes sense." I am confused.

"Were you really prepared to get charged with murder rather than being outed?"

I sit upright. " 'Scuse me?"

"I know who you were having a secret rendezvous with the afternoon and night of the 28th."

"What?"

"There is no point denying it, Brendan. I didn't know gay men like you existed any more. You are so far in the closet you can't find your way out."

I protest, "I don't know who ye have been talking to but-"

"Stephen Hay and his story checks out."

"Stephen?" I whisper.

"Yes. I had to make sure that he wasn't lying so I spent the rest of yesterday asking around about you and your 'girlfriend' has admitted that your relationship is a sham. Your friend, Pete Hamill, your business colleague, Warren Fox, the mother of Ste's children, Amy Barnes and your sister have collaborated and say that you have been having a relationship with Stephen Hay for the last few months on and off. I even gave your soon to be ex-wife Eileen a ring. That was an interesting conversation."

Fuck.

"You cheated on her with her nephew. Really, Brendan. That is low." Ethan says quietly. "You have been a bad, bad boy but you are no murderer."

I barely hear him. I can only think of one thing...

"Stephen." I whisper. "He said we were together that day?"

Why did he get involved? Why did he stick his neck out for me? He could get in a whole load of trouble if the cops find out he lied.

"Yes. He tells me you went round to his and the two of you hardly left his bedroom that day, you randy thing!" His smile is cold.

"I-"

"You really hate that your secret is out, don't you?" He says.

I am too stunned to say anything.

"Welcome to the world of being an out gay man, Brendan." Ethan stands up and indicates a guard to un-cuff me. "You are free to go."

-0-0-

I hop out of the cab and walk the short distance to my car. I am conscious of looks and stares from passers-by. I find out why soon enough. Every local paper front page of the newsstand I walk past has my name and face on it.

"_**Gay Bad Boy Cleared By Unnamed Alibi!"**_

"_**Local Businessman Brendan Brady: Free and Out!"**_

"_**From One Shock to Another: Suspected Murderer Turned Closeted Gay!"**_

Fucking hell!

"What are ye looking at?" I sneer at some school kids as they crane their necks to get a good look.

They turn their heads away and pick up their pace.

I turn to the stand and rip all the newspapers of f it throwing them to the floor.

"Hey!" The owner runs out of the store looking angry but the minute he looks at me and recognises my face he backs off.

"What!" I spit out at him with crazed eyes.

"Nothing." He slowly walks back into the store.

"Thought so." I drop all but one of the papers on the ground and make my way to my car.

I have one person to see. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to guess who that is.

-0-0-

I push my finger on the doorbell and keep it there while looking around to see whether any curious neighbours are having a peek through their windows. I glance at the newspaper in my hand.

Shit. My life as I know it is over.

"Yeah! Okay! I'm coming!" Stephen shouts in annoyance through the door.

He swings the door open quickly but when he takes one look at me he tries to slam it shut again. He is too slow. I put a foot in the way and I force myself in, shoving him aside so that I can pace in his living room.

I show him the newspaper's front page.

"_**Gay Bad Boy Cleared By Unnamed Alibi!"**_

"Get out!" He says angrily after glancing at the headline.

"No." I throw the paper onto the sofa.

Stephen is already dressed for work. I look around. I can't hear the kids or Amy.

"Amy has gone to drop the kids at nursery and I am on my way to work so." He stays by the door, holding it open and points out of it.

"Is Noah here?"

He looks at me nervously and swallows. I'll take that as a 'no' then.

"Great, so we are all alone."

God. He looks so vulnerable right now. Cute despite those bags under his eyes. It is as if he hasn't been sleeping properly.

"Ye didn't tip the cops off to arrest me then?" I say.

He looks at me as if I am mad. "No."

"Right." I continue to pace.

"Just, please go, Brendan."

"Not until ye explain why ye lied to Ethan Scott."

"I don't owe you an explanation."

"I had it under control." I lie. "I didn't need ye to give me an alibi."

"Really?" He walks up to me and holds my gaze with those expressive blue eyes of his. "Because that is not what I heard. You were going down, Brendan."

"Why do you care?"

"I-" His eyes tear up. Fuck's sake. See. This is why it is no good being associated with me. I am bad news. I make his life a misery.

I take a step towards him but he backs away.

"Don't touch me." He whispers. "Seriously."

I back off. "Okay."

Do I still scare him? It kills me to think that I might.

"I don't want you to think that because I gave you an alibi that it means anything." He says. "Nothing changes between us. I am with Noah now and I am happy."

"You look tired."

"We are going away for the weekend to the Lake District." He isn't even looking at me when he says that. "We are getting stronger every day."

"Ye sound like ye are trying to persuade yerself."

"I'm not." He pulls at his sleeves the way he always does when he is nervous.

"Then why did ye put yerself on the line and lie for me?"

He looks down and shakes his head. It is as if even he hasn't really explained why to himself. I use the opportunity to make my move. I can't help it. I close the gap between us so that by the time he looks up I am right up against him with both hands firmly anchored on his hips. I feel his heat radiate through his clothes to me. I missed this.

"What are you doing?"

"Thanking ye." I whisper.

Then I do what I have been craving to do since I got here. I kiss him.

I consume him as if he is my last supper. There is no give and take here. I am greedy. This might be my last chance. He may never let me near him again so I taste him, feel him, savour every inch of him that I can without reserve or restraint. Fuck. This is like giving food to a starved man. I am eating like there is no tomorrow. When he folds himself into my arms and let's go I think I must be dreaming but I go with it. He grips me to him so firmly that I should be worried about a crush injury, not that I would care. What a way to go; squeezed to death by Stephen's embrace. I groan when he rubs himself against me and I grip his arse to encourage him closer still. Fuck yeah.

Eventually I crave stupid oxygen. I pull away reluctantly and stare at his parted gasping wet mouth. He licks his lower lip and then bites it lightly as he studies mine. It makes me growl low in my chest.

"Thanks." I whisper.

"Yeah. Sure." He clears his throat and gently pushes me away. "I have to go now and so do you."

His flat palm on me feels more like a caress than a shove. He is hot for me. A moron can see that so where does he find the self control to push me back towards the front door from?

"So ye can go to work with yer boyfriend?" I say while walking backwards.

"Yes."

I nod as we draw to a stop at the door's threshold. "How did ye know that I needed an alibi for the 28th?"

"Do you not remember telling Pete that that was when you did it?" He whispers the 'did' as if it is a dirty word.

"Pete?"

I remember being drunk as shit and rambling on and on to my childhood friend as if he was my priest and I were at confession the night we last split up. But I cannot remember every detail of what I said. I am starting to realise that I told him a lot more than I thought I had.

"Yes. You are lucky to have friends like him, Brendan. He had every right to seek revenge on you and let you rot in jail."

"As did ye." I make my way out of the door.

"Where are you going?" He asks and walks after me.

I look at him and smile slightly. "Why? Ye miss me already?"

"No! Fuck off!"

I laugh and lean in so quickly that I manage to touch my lips to his before he can react. Yeah that's right. I kissed him just outside his house. Fuck it. Anyone with ears or eyes will know my sexuality by the end of the day anyway.

He looks around us in shock. "We are outside!"

I lay a hand on his cheek gently before rubbing a thumb across his lips.

"I know." I say. "Say 'hi' to Noah for me will ye?"

He looks surprised and puzzled so I lightly pat his cheek, "Atta boy!"

I spin on my heel, jump into my car and burn rubber driving out of his _cul_ de sac before I do something stupid like push him back into his house and try it on with him.

-0-0-

I walk into Pete's office at Hollyoaks High without a knock or invitation.

"Headmaster." I say briskly.

"We are called head teachers now, Bren. 'Master' seemed a little S and M." He says from behind his desk as he puts his pen down and pushes some papers aside. "So they released ye."

"Yes." I throw myself into the seat opposite him.

"Is that the same suit ye wore to the fashion show?"

"They don't give you a designer wardrobe when ye are in her majesty's keep, Peter. Don't worry, I don't smell."

"That's what ye think."

"Ye told Stephen to be my alibi. Ye made him pervert the course of justice. That is a criminal offence." I feel bile rising in my core.

"No I didn't, Bren. I simply asked him whether he remembered what he was doing on the 28th. He put two and two together and come up with four. Clever boy, yer fella."

"He is not my fella!" I sneer.

"Ye keep saying that but I will take one guess that the first person ye visited when ye got released was Ste." He raises an eyebrow. "Look, if I hadn't been with family on that day I would have put my name forward."

"Fuck's sake, Pete! I didn't want him involved!" I shout. "I want him to stay innocent in all this. I don't want him hurt."

"And ye think ye being in jail for life would have made him hurt less?"

I take a breath to calm down and then speak more calmly. "If the cops find out _he_ could be facing life."

"Why should they find out?" He replies. "Look, Bren, if he did this for you it is because he cares. He may not admit it. You can't blame him. You did a number on him but he loves ye just as much as ye love him. This whole thing he has going with Noah is nothing. Air. Dust. Ye have been given a second chance. Take it with both hands and don't fuck it up this time."

"Shit, I forgot how intense ye can get sometimes." I mutter.

"Yeah, well." He shrugs.

"What did I tell ye when I was drunk as shit last week when I came round to yours?"

"A lot." He says. "I won't embarrass ye with all the details ye gave me about ye and Ste..."

My eyes widen. Surely I didn't give him intimate details...

"But ye also gave me enough information to do some investigating. Danny was a hated man by some not so savoury characters in society."

"People he had worked with?"

"Ye could say that. Ye mentioned a name."

"Trevor Duncan." I say slowly as I remember snippets of my drunken monologue to him.

"Exactly. A proper villain. Record as long as Rapunzel's hair. A nasty creature."

I see where he is going with this. "Ye anonymously tipped the police off with his name. Is he the other suspect? Was he in Hollyoaks that day?"

"I don't know but he is now the only suspect now that ye have an airtight alibi."

"They have a murder weapon with my prints on it, Pete."

"At best it adds up to circumstantial evidence. That crate opener must have other staff members' prints on it. Ye all open crates, right? Means, motive and opportunity, Bren. Ye had the means and the motive but Ste's alibi means ye didn't have the opportunity."

"Are ye sure ye weren't a little crooked in a past life, Pete?" I ask. He can be sly when he wants to be.

He taps his head. "Nah, I just have a quick brain and have hung out with a shady character or two in my life that's all. Now ye need to think about who tipped the cops with yer name or the whereabouts of the weapon." He says.

I think about this. There can only be one person who had the information.

Warren.

"And ye have to figure out how ye are going to live as an out gay man."

My heart stops.

F.U.C.K.I.N.G. H.E.L.L!

He is right. When I kissed Ste it was fine. I felt cocooned by him. It felt right to be with him like that. To kiss him. But going at it alone is something different. I don't want the scrutiny, the looks, and the comments.

I don't want to be gossip fodder.

Pete gives me an encouraging smile. "This moment has been eleven years in the making for ye, Bren. Nobody cares that ye are gay. There are bigger issues to worry about. I hope ye stop caring too."


	26. Chapter 25

**A word of thanks to cyrilandshirley for giving me inspiration for the setting of a scene in this chapter that I call 'meet the family' through a scene I read in her fanfiction...**

**...**

I rush into _Look Sharpe_. I'm late. Damn Brendan.

"So you finally decided to grace us with your presence, Ste." Tony says sarcastically as I run to the reception desk.

I am out of breath when I say, "Look, I'm really sorry, yeah. I was about to leave my house but then-"

_Brendan showed up out of the blue and thanked me for releasing him from prison by kissing the hell out of me. Can you believe it!_

"Spare me the details." He interrupts me impatiently. "You've got customers waiting. Get started and we'll talk later."

"You're not going to fire me, are you?" I ask anxiously. How am I going to support the kids?

"No! God, Ste, relax!" His face softens. "I was going to make sure things were okay. You seem distracted."

"I'm fine." I say.

"Good. Good." He says as if he didn't really hear me and then mumbles, "Oh, by the way, have you heard that your ex-boss has been released from prison?"

"Brendan. Yeah. I saw it in the paper." Why is Tony talking about it? His grin is making me nervous.

"So you also know that apparently he bats for your team. I nearly choked on my cereal when I read that!"

"My team?" I say.

Tony whispers as he takes in the curious looks of the punters. "Yeah. You know. Gay!"

"It's not a dirty word, Tony." I scowl at his over-exaggerated tone.

"Yeah, I know, but Brendan kept it a secret which means he was ashamed of it, right? He even dated that Mitzeee bird. Must have been a cover unless he lied to that poor girl too."

"I wouldn't know."

"How is he going to handle the whole village knowing? For someone used to having the upper hand, this is going to kill him." Tony laughs in glee. "Did you get any inkling that he was more Dale Winton than Vernon Kay when you worked at the club?"

"What?"

"Gay."

"Oh." I squeak. "No."

"I wonder who his alibi is."

"Could be anyone." I say quietly. Casual. I hope.

"Yeah, I suppose." Tony says shaking his head in wonder.

"Look, Tony, I should get started, yeah. The customers." I turn my back to him and start serving. He walks off into the office and I breathe a sigh of relief. I don't think I can handle the scrutiny. I feel so guilty that I will probably blurt out the truth without realising it. I just want to go home and avoid everyone I know for a few days until things calm down.

I keep thinking about how Brendan is coping. His sexuality is the top trending topic of conversation at _Look Sharpe_ as it probably is everywhere in the village. Most of the chat is innocent enough but some comments are harsh. Like really. I've heard things like,

"I thought Brady was well hard but the man's a pansy!"

"That Mitzeee has lost months being with that fruitcake. Maybe I should educate her on what a real man is about!"

"Now I think about it, I swear he tried it on with me a couple of months back, the fucking queer!"

I try to ignore the comments but they hurt me as if they were talking about me. I get that most people now-a-days aren't close-minded but this reminds me that homophobia still exists and it makes me understand why Brendan was so fearful of coming out.

I feel bad that I am the one who outed him especially since I know it is the last thing he wanted to do. But what else could I have done? It was the only way to get him off the murder charge.

Oh. I haven't told you what happened at the prison yesterday, did I? I'll tell you now if you want...

-0-

Chester prison's reception area didn't look as scary as I thought it would but it was still more shit than the juvenile correctional facility that I was in four years ago.

I nervously saw Ethan approach me with confusion etched on his face. This was it. There was no turning back.

"Ste! What are you doing here?" Noah's friend asked.

"I need to talk to someone about Brendan's arrest." My palms were sweaty. I was shaking like a leaf.

"_You're_ the new witness?"

I swallowed uneasily and nodded.

"But you don't associate with Brendan Brady."

"Um, no. I don't." I dropped my voice. "But I did."

He frowned at me.

"Can we talk somewhere quieter?" I looked around at the volume of human traffic.

He silently showed me into an empty visitor's room.

"What do you know?" He asked once we sat down.

"Brendan did not kill Danny Houston."

He raised an eyebrow. "You say that with confidence."

"Yeah." I said. "He couldn't have, right, because he was with me nearly all day on the 28th of December."

Ethan's eyes widened. "You are his alibi? Wait. I need to record this."

I stared at the tape recorder that he took out his inside jacket pocket. "Um, I don't want to be named in this."

"It depends on what you tell me." He pressed record.

"Okay." I said reluctantly.

"When you are ready, Ste." Ethan said encouragingly. "What makes you think Danny Houston was killed on that day?"

"I could bore you with an explanation but we both know that was when he died so why don't I skip to what you really want to know."

"Okay. Why do you think Brendan is not guilty?"

I closed my eyes and tried to calm my nerves.

"Ste?" Ethan coaxed.

I opened my eyes again. "Brendan might deny this because he is ashamed of who he is."

"Just spit it out, Ste."

"Okay. On that day I dropped Amy and our kids at the bus station in the morning, right. They were off to see Amy's dad for a few days. Then I went to work at the club. Warren was there alone and told me that the club was closed for the day."

Ethan nodded. Good. My story was obviously consistent with what he had been told so far.

"So I was at a loose end. I decided to spend the day vegging at home so I went to _Price Slice_ to buy mince pies but then I bumped into Brendan."

"Where?"

"Just outside the shop." I cleared my throat. "He was at a loose end, too."

"Go on."

"So he asked if I wanted to, you know, hook up." I felt myself go red as I stared at my nails.

"I don't follow."

I looked at Ethan as if he was a moron. "Do you want me to spell it out for you? We went back to my place for the rest of the day and night, okay?"

"You..." And then he got it. "You guys hooked up?"

"That's what I said."

"You and Brendan!"

If I wasn't so tense I would have laughed at his expression.

"He's gay?"

I nodded.

"Fuck!" He clasped a hand over his mouth. "Was that the first time you got together... for sex?"

"No."

"Were you going out?"

"No, not really. We were on and off for eight months, though." I whispered. "But it's in the past now."

"Does Noah know?"

"Yeah, I told him but he doesn't know I am here, Ethan. There is bad blood between him and Brendan. I don't want to hurt him."

Ethan looked like he was in shock. "Bloody hell, Ste! You have knocked me sideways." He ran a hand roughly through his hair. "I'm going to need proof."

"Of what?"

"That you were with Brendan in the past."

I panicked then. What kind of proof? This needed to stay hush hush. "He doesn't want anyone to know that he sleeps with men and I would appreciate it if you kept that fact out of the limelight."

"If Brendan wants out of this murder charge he may need to get used to flying the rainbow flag from now on."

I began to shake uncontrollably. There was no way Bren would ever get over being outed even if it meant getting out of jail. His greatest fear was to come out publically.

"Look, you are doing the right thing, Ste, if you are telling the truth. I can always keep your name out of the public domain for your protection."

"Okay." I whispered.

"I'm going to need names of people who knew about you and Brendan. You understand that, don't you?"

"Yeah."

I gave him Amy, Mitzeee, Warren and Cheryl's names.

-0-

So you can imagine what went through my mind when Brendan turned up at my doorstep this morning. I thought he was going to beat me up so badly that I wasn't going to be recognisable to anyone who knew me. Never in a million years did I think that he would end up kissing me so hard I forgot about everything that had happened recently.

I forgot about Noah.

It felt like we were back in Rome for a brief moment; like he was thirsty for us to be together. At least that is what it felt like when he wrapped his arms around me.

I thought he would be angry with me but he wasn't. He even kissed me outside my house where curious eyes could see us.

I don't get what is going on in his head.

"Ste!" Amy hisses.

"Yeah." I look up at her and Pete who are sitting opposite me at a table in _Relish_.

She had suggested that we meet up during our lunch breaks. When I turned up Pete was with her. I guess it isn't that surprising. He is her friend and boss at the high school and they both know pretty much everything about me and Bren. I know that this lunch isn't casual. It is an intervention.

"Are you listening to me?" She asks.

Was she saying something?

"Yeah." I push my sandwich around my plate.

"You seem distracted." Pete says.

Everyone keeps saying that. "I'm not."

"As I was saying, Lee left me a dozen roses at school and a mixed tape of love songs. Cute. Isn't it?" Ames says.

"He did?" Pete says. "When?"

"Yesterday. He wants us to go somewhere for a holiday soon." Amy continues to gush. "It means you and Noah can have the place to yourselves for a bit."

"So ye are getting serious now?" Pete says.

"Um." I mutter as I pick up my bread bun.

"I thought you might like some time alone." Amy says.

"Super. Cool." I mumble as I slowly tear the bread into small cubes.

"Because Noah was telling me that he was planning a sex orgy for you. He has invited big muscle guys dressed in leather and rubber. You know. Your cup of tea."

"Okay." I mumble.

Pete laughs.

"Ste!" She shouts. I am startled into looking at her. The rest of _Relish_ is also staring at us. "You're not listening to me!"

"I am." I protest.

"What did I just say then?"

"Something about Lee?" I say sheepishly.

"Wrong!" She groans in exasperation. "Seriously, Ste, what is on your mind?"

"What do you reckon?" I say.

"Brendan." Pete says.

Amy whispers to me. "Ste, you have to move on."

"I have." I say.

"Good. You need to emotionally separate yourself from him." She says.

"Now hold on a second. You can't speak for Ste." Pete says to her. "Maybe he doesn't want to move on. Maybe he still wants to be with Bren."

"Uh, no, I don't think so." Amy smirks. "Who would want to go back to that?"

"You don't know Brendan." Pete protests.

"I know that he threatened me and the kids. You weren't there when I had to pick up the pieces when Ste came home battered. Brendan is a coward who can't own who he is to himself or to others."

"A man can change."

"Maybe, but not Brendan."

"Well I guess you will just have to wait and see." Pete says. "He came to school this morning. I think you'll find that now the secret is out, he will be freer and lighter; more true to himself."

"I won't hold my breath. Oh and by the way, Ste told me what Brendan did to you. I would have thought that you, out of everyone, would see how little he has changed over the years!" She hisses.

"And Brendan told me what Ste used to do to ye. I would have thought that ye out of everyone would see how much people can change!" He sneers back at her.

"Guy! Guys! Relax!" I say. "Why are you so worked up about this? This has nothing to do with either of you. It is about me and Brendan and we are both over it. He has made his choice. He doesn't want to be with me anymore and that's fine. I am with someone I love and who loves me back. End of story." I stand up. Gosh. I sound like I mean it. "So don't argue over us."

They look at each other.

"It is not worth breaking your friendship over." I say. "I'm going to get back to work, yeah?"

-0-0-

On my way back to the leisure centre, as I am crossing the courtyard near _MOBS_, I see someone I was hoping to avoid forever. Mitzeee.

"Ste!"

I pick up the pace heading in the opposite direction.

"Don't act like you can't see me!" She shouts. "You've ruined my life, do you know that!"

I stop suddenly and spin around in anger. She is pissed off with me? Seriously?

"How?" I storm up to her.

"I am the laughing stock of the village! Everyone is gossiping about why such a beautiful, talented, intelligent and sexy woman such as me ended up going out with a gay man!" She flicks her hair back and sniffs in my direction. "Why did you have to go to the cops and blab about your relationship?"

"Would you rather I left Brendan in jail wrongly accused of murder?" I whisper angrily so that no one hears us.

"There must have been another way out." She says.

"Believe me if there was I would gone with it." I sneer.

That is when I notice the tears falling down her cheeks. Mitzeee is crying. I never thought I would see the day.

"He came round to my place this morning and dumped me." She breaks down, sobbing uncontrollably. She's acting like the relationship she had with Bren was real.

"But Mitzeee, what alternative did he have? No one would have believed it anymore." I say as kindly as possible. "You can finally have a proper boyfriend."

"I wanted Brendan, okay!" She spits out and my jaw scrapes the floor in shock. "There, I said it! Happy? That is how pathetic I am!"

"I don't think you are pathetic." I say once I am over the surprise. I didn't recognise that Mitzeee actually fancied Bren. "I used to want him too but now I know I am better off without him. I am finally with someone who can take care of me and I can be happy with. Noah is a thousand times the man Brendan is. I would be happy if I never saw him ever again and you should be too, yeah."

I give her a small smile and then turn on my heel to leave. Instead I collide straight into someone.

When I steady myself on my feet I see who it is.

Brendan.

I can tell from his face that he heard what I said. His cheek twitches uncontrollably as he eyes me down to my toes and then right up to my hair before connecting our eyes again. Am I imagining sadness in them? Yeah, I must be. He doesn't miss or want me anymore.

"Is that right, Stephen?" His whisper is low as he chews on his gum. "Ye never want to see me again?"

I feel tears prick my eyes. Of course I want to see him again. What does he think my alibi was all about? Fun?

But I can't go back to the hurt. I can't. So I nod slowly.

"You could have just left me to rot in prison." He says softly and then leans so close that I inhale his mint flavoured breath. For a mad second I think he is going to kiss me right here in the court yard.

Instead he whispers, "Never mind. Watch this magic trick."

And with that he walks away, hands in pockets; all swagger as if I mean nothing to him. As if parting ways doesn't leave his heart crushed like mine is. At least he has made things clear to me. I am doing the right thing committing to Noah.

I will never mean as much to Brendan as he does to me.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

**_ONE MONTH LATER... _**

_..._

_..._

_A lazy Sunday morning..._

"Uncle Noah! Daddy! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!..."

I try to ignore the cacophony my daughter is making as she jumps up and down on my bed in her bright pink pyjamas. I bury my head into my pillow and mumble into it.

"No princess. Leave daddy and Noah alone."

"No! Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!"

I groan and give up. I sit up and Leah giggles as she falls onto the bed between Noah and me.

I tickle her and she kicks out in glee. "Stop! It tickles, daddy!"

I smile as she tries to push me off with chubby hands.

"No chance! This is payback!" I tickle her harder and she screams with laughter.

"Fuck's sake!" Noah shouts angrily as he sits up straight and stares at us.

Leah goes dead quiet.

"Can't we get one lie in a week?" He says. "Just one! That is all I am asking!"

"Noah!" I say. "Don't swear in front of my daughter."

Leah crawls up to him and puts her hands on his head and strokes it with a sheepish grin on her face. "Sowie, Uncle Noah."

He stares at her and his heart melts a little. "It's okay, darling. I am sorry for saying that naughty word. That was bad and you shouldn't use it."

She smiles. "I like your hair."

She rubs her hands against his grade one cut. Noah hates it when she does that but he grins and bares it. It makes me smile seeing Leah so comfortable with him.

"Daddy, touch Uncle Noah's hair." She says.

I laugh at her content expression and cop a quick feel.

"Um, yeah. It does feel good doesn't it?" I agree.

"I wish you rubbed something else that made _me_ feel good." Noah murmurs to me.

"Noah!"

"What!" He says. "It's been a week since we did the nasty."

I scrunch my face. "Don't call it that!" I swing my legs out of bed and pick my daughter up. "Amy and Lee are flying back tomorrow so we'll have more time to ourselves. Until then how about we have some breakfast and then spend some time in the park?"

"Yes!" Leah shouts and curls her arms around my neck. "I want to play on the swings and go wee!"

"Do you want me to take you to the bathroom?" Noah asks her as he tiredly rubs his eyes.

"No!" Leah says. "Silly Billy!"

"She means 'wee' as in the sound she makes on the swings." I shuffle her in my arms.

"Oh." Noah looks kind of adorable when he is still half asleep.

"Daddy, can I be a princess today?" She asks sweetly. That means she wants to wear her princess costume.

I grin at her. "Maybe. If you promise to be good and eat all your breakfast."

"I promise."

"You want me to make it?" Noah asks while stretching in bed.

"Would you?" I say gratefully. "Leah and I will wake Lucas up and I'll get them both ready."

"It's a deal." He says as he yawns. "Just give me a minute."

"Okay."

I make my way to the door with the little princess.

"Love you." Noah says.

I grin as I turn back to him. "Love you, too."

"Lucas!" Leah starts screaming. "Wake up! Wake up! Wake up...!"

I laugh and Noah groans as I walk towards my son's room.

See. This is nice. Domestic. Noah, me, the kids. Comfortable. Normal.

I don't really think of Brendan anymore.

Much.

-0-0-

After two hours playing in the park I thought the kids would be tired but they aren't.

"Lucas! Come back here!" I shout as my son runs around screaming with joy. Toddlers!

"Dog!" He shouts as he points at the animal he is running after at the far end of the park. That beast looks about four times his size. Fuck. It could eat him whole! I run after him while Noah sits on the swings with Leah, dressed in her princess costume.

"Lucas!"

My plan was straight forward when we set out this morning.

Take kids to the park.

Exhaust kids.

Let kids nap.

Enjoy overdue alone time with boyfriend before first kid wakes up.

Easy.

I hope it works out because Noah is starting to show cracks. This is a lot to ask of him. He is not used to having kids around never mind helping to parent them. Sometimes I wonder whether he has second thoughts about going out with me because of all my baggage.

I need to show him a good time when the little ones are asleep and remind him why we make sense. I can't let our relationship fail.

I finally reach Lucas and sweep him into my arms.

"Gotcha!" I say and give him a big fat kiss on the forehead. "Come on. Let's join your sister and Uncle Noah, ey? I think it's time for a snack."

As we make our way back to the swings I spot a young boy also running towards the swings. Strange. He reminds me of someone but I can't pinpoint who.

We get to Noah and Leah at the same time and he hops onto an empty swing.

"Hi!" He says as he starts swinging.

"Hi!" Leah says with a shy smile.

"My name is Paraic." He says in a confident Irish accent. Irish definitely.

"My name is Leah. This is daddy and this is Uncle Noah." My daughter says pointing at us in turn. "He is daddy's boifwend."

"Cool." Paraic says as he swings more.

"Are your parents here?" Noah asks him looking around with concern.

"Yes. Me papa, mummy and brother but I ran quicker than them. How old are ye?" He asks Leah curiously.

"Four." Leah says proudly. "How old are you?"

"Six."

That smile. I know it. It is identical to...

"What's your dad's name?" I ask suddenly.

I don't get an answer because we hear a worried voice call out,

"Paraic!" That must be his mother. "Paraic!"

I look around but don't see anyone.

"I'm here mummy! I've found friends!" The young boy shouts and then speaks to me,

"Daddy's name is Brendan Brady. There he is!" He says excitedly and points to a corner of the park.

I freeze when I see Brendan with an older boy and his wife, Eileen. They walk towards us. When he sees me, his face drops. He stares at me steadily and I get uncomfortable under his gaze. It feels like he is crawling over my skin with his eyes.

He doesn't want me here. That is why he is glaring at me like that. He doesn't want me to embarrass him in front of his perfect little family.

_Oh him, yeah. He is some guy I used to fuck and beat around. Ignore him, Eileen._

Well, I am not going anywhere. This is my day off and I am here with my kids and boyfriend.

I look at how he holds Eileen in one hand and his son in the other. I feel a strong tug of jealousy. So he ran back to his wife again, huh?

Was being openly gay that hideous a thought? Was I that meaningless to him?

His son stumbles a little and Brendan is quick to hold him and prevent a fall. He pulls him into a tight one armed hug and whispers something that makes the kid smile from ear to ear.

Declan. That's his name. I remember Bren saying that he had a medical problem with his balance.

I am fascinated at how Declan looks at him; as if Brendan is his hero.

Maybe the tough Irishman is capable of love; at least where his sons are concerned.

"Ste, it's Brendan." Noah whispers.

"Yeah, I know." I whisper back, hugging Lucas tighter to me like a comfort blanket. "Just be cool."

Paraic says. "You know my daddy?"

"Yes." I say as the rest of the Bradys reach the swings.

This is so awkward, guys.

Thank goodness for Leah and Paraic. They talk to each other without picking up on the tension.

Brendan lets out a sigh as he looks at me. I look down. I can't make eye contact. I am worried I will give my jealousy away and that Noah will realise that I am not completely over Bren. I know. I don't know why I can't just move on. Seriously.

"Eileen. Boys. This beautiful little girl is Leah and this force of nature is Lucas."

"I am a princess today." Leah says with a grin. Lucas wriggles in my arms.

It feels strange that he is introducing my kids. Yeah, he has seen them plenty but I have never made an effort to get them to hang out with him. What was the point? Bren and I were in a non-relationship.

He clears his throat. "And this is their father, Stephen."

"Hi Stephen." Declan and Paraic politely shake my hand.

"Hi." I say and can't help but smile. They are so well mannered.

He looks right at me when he says, "These are my boys, Declan and Paraic."

There is something about how he introduces them that screams of pride. I get an inkling into how much he cares for them and how much he must miss them when they live so many miles away.

Eileen's jaw drops in thinly veiled surprise. She looks at Bren and then eyes me up. "You're Stephen Hay?"

Why is she looking at me like that?

"Yes." I say cautiously.

She glances at Bren and he looks off into the distance, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he is tired.

"You are so young!"

"No. I'm not, right. I'm twenty years old." I complain.

"I saw ye at _Chez Chez_ last time I was here." She says with a small smile.

"I remember you, too." I say as I put Lucas into his pushchair. I don't like the way she is staring at me.

Noah takes his hand in mine and Eileen raises an eyebrow.

"This is my boyfriend, Noah." I say. Brendan stares at Noah as if looks could kill. I don't get him. You need to care to feel jealousy.

Brendan clears his throat. He grips Eileen's elbow and leans into her ear but his whisper is loud enough for me to hear.

"Maybe we should go."

"No." She answers. "I want to meet yer friends, Bren. It would be nice to find out a bit about them, I mean, yer life here in Hollyoaks."

She looks at him meaningfully and I feel like I am being dissected and studied.

Leah jumps off her swing and lands neatly on her feet. She tugs at Eileen's jeans.

"Sometimes Uncle Noah stays in daddy's bed and they hug and then he sleeps and goes..."

She makes loud snoring sounds.

Eileen laughs. I blush. Brendan's cheek twitches.

"I do not!" Noah says with a grin as he lightly ribs her, getting a giggle in response.

"Yes you do!" She shouts in glee.

"Ouch! Dad ye are hurting my hand!" Declan winces. Bren drops his son's hand apologetically.

"Sorry." He opens and shuts his fists quickly.

He looks at me and Noah and cocks his head to the side. "Well this is nice. Ye having a family outing and what not?"

I could say the same for him.

Eileen finally speaks, detecting the pressured situation. "Kids, why don't ye go and have a play together. Declan, ye can take young Lucas on a walk around the grassy area, yeah?"

"'Kay mummy."

When the children walk off, Noah asks Eileen, "So are you here on holiday?"

"Not really. Brendan invited the kids and me to come over now he has moved into his new place." Eileen explains. She smiles at Bren, places her hand on his shoulder and gives it a squeeze.

What house? Has Bren moved out the flat he shared with Chez? It would explain why I haven't bumped into him when I go round to Noah's since they practically live next door to each other.

"We had some talking to do." Eileen says.

"I see." I say and I think I do. My first impression was right. They _are_ back together. Maybe he got a bigger place to accommodate the family.

I can't believe he is willing to live a lie again.

I hate that I care.

"So you two raise yer children together?" Eileen asks as she looks between Noah and me.

"Eileen." Brendan warns. "It's none of our business."

"No! No!" Noah says quickly. "They are Ste's."

I frown at how quick he is to deny them.

"Ye seem a little young to have children." She raises an eyebrow at me. "Ye are barely out of yer teens and it must be challenging to raise them in yer situation."

"What do you mean?" I frown. What is her problem?

"Eileen." Brendan says again, firmly.

"What?" She says.

"Just because I am young and gay doesn't mean I am a bad father." I say. God, she is like her husband; homophobic to the core.

"Oh no! Ye have misunderstood me, Stephen." Eileen says quickly. "I don't think sexuality has anything to do with being a good parent but it can be tough to prove that to the society ye live in and the world at large. I am curious to know how ye handle it. I have personal reasons to want to know."

Brendan sighs in annoyance, ducks his head and studies the grass. I see his cheek twitch and he smoothes his moustache down.

He looks uncomfortable. Gay talk. He hates it.

"I don't know." I say as I look at my kids having a whale of a time, looking happy and healthy. "I just do the best I can for them."

"It looks like ye are doing a great job." She says with a smile. "They are beautiful."

She is gentle and her tone is kind. Maybe I've got Eileen wrong. Maybe she isn't homophobic but I don't get her. Why would you go back with your husband after finding out he is gay by catching him in _your_ bed with _your_ nephew?

"Your sons seem really sweet too." I say.

"They have their moments!" She says with a smile.

"Declan looks just like you, Bren."

That slipped out of nowhere. I wasn't going to say a word to him.

Bren looks at me as if he can't believe I am talking to him.

"Ye think so?" He says slowly.

I nod. "Yeah."

"Like father like son?" He whispers.

"He will break some hearts one day." I say softly.

"Yeah." His says. "Only I'm not the one that breaks hearts, Stephen."

The way he says that makes me feel like gasping for air. He speaks right to my soul when he looks at me like that.

Noah puts an arm around my waist and kisses my cheek, snapping me out of the looks Brendan and I are sharing. "I think we should go, baby."

"Yeah."

"Shall I get the kids?" He asks.

"Yeah thanks."

Noah says bye to Eileen and deliberately ignores Bren before he walks off.

"I hope we didn't disturb your family time." Eileen says apologetically.

"No. We were just about done, anyway." I say. "I hope you enjoy yours."

Eileen smiles softly. "As much as we can; given the circumstances."

She doesn't expand what she means by that so I smile politely and say, "Right. Well, bye then. It was nice meeting you properly."

She smile, "You too. We may meet again."

I doubt that.

"Bye, Stephen." Bren says.

I look at him and feel a jolt of sensation that makes me feel alive in a way I haven't felt for some time.

"Yeah. Bye."

And I walk as fast as my legs will take me to Noah.


	27. Chapter 26

**Dear all, I have amended this chapter on 7th June, '11. Some of the typos and the flow of convo in parts were annoying me. No big plot changes, but I got a little OCD so this is a 'cleaner' read!**

**Once again, thank you for taking the time to read and comment. The feedback makes my day (I know... sad but true!)**

**... ... ... ...**

_**The day I get out of prison...**_

I keep hearing Peter's voice in my head as I head out of the school.

"_This moment has been eleven years in the making for ye, Bren. Nobody cares that ye are gay. I hope ye stop caring too."_

What the hell does Peter know about me and my life? He isn't the one with his name plastered across the papers like cheap gossip fodder. He can't understand that people will treat me differently now.

They will see me as a faggot, shirt-lifter, shit-stabber, bender, queer, pansy, weak, deviant and dirty. They will forget that I am a tough guy, a business man, father, sharp dresser, quick-witted, alright-looking in the right light.

They will forget that I can knock them down with a couple of choice words, a stare or a closed fist. I will be powerless and exposed.

I have already had three stops since leaving jail; Stephen, Peter and Mitzeee.

I won't bore you with my encounter with Mitzeee. I know Ste has told ye a little something. Suffice to say that somewhere along the line she forgot that she was just my beard and fell for me. Anyway, I had to dump her. Staying 'together' is pointless since my sexual orientation is general knowledge now.

The closet is not an option anymore no matter how much I wish it was.

-0-0-

I am looking for Warren.

I put my strut on as if I haven't just had the worst week of my life. How ironic that it all happened after that weekend in Rome. Don't get all mushy. It wasn't just Stephen that elevated the experience.

After getting back it was one blow after another.

Blow number one was Stephen and me parting ways after Patrick opened Pandora's Box and the truth came flying out.

Blow number two was getting arrested. Even a guilty man quakes when faced with life imprisonment. All I could think about while I was locked up was the prospect of not seeing the four most important people in my life again; my boys, my sister and Stephen.

Blow number three was finding out that Stephen had gone back to Noah and so quickly. It made a mockery of all those words he said, telling me how much I meant to him. It proved what I knew already growing up. Words mean nothing. Actions speak louder and he made things crystal clear. He had moved on and I was 100 percent in his past.

And of course blow number four is being outed.

As I walk through the precinct on my way to the club I am reminded of why I feared it so much. People stare. I can't stand it but I'll be damned if I show it. Instead I grin coldly, put my sunglasses on, look straight ahead and walking like I am in a battle march.

I walk briskly around the corner into the courtyard that has MOBS at its centre ignoring the looks people keep giving me. And then I come to a sudden stop as I hear a familiar voice that gets my heart racing.

Stephen. He is speaking in hushed tones to Mitzeee with his back to me.

"I used to want him, too, but now I know I am better off without him. I am finally with someone who can take care of me and I can be happy with. Noah is a thousand times the man Brendan is."

I feel like I have been stabbed in the heart when I hear those words. I want to cover my ears and un-hear him.

I mean nothing to Stephen. I don't know why I am so surprised. I hurt him badly, emotionally and physically.

"I would be happy if I never saw him ever again and you should be too, yeah." He says and then suddenly turns on his heel.

I am so shocked that I don't have time to duck out of the way. He collides into me and visibly recoils when he realises that it is me.

He can't even bear to be touched by me, can he?

I play it cool like his words haven't done a number on me. There was life before Stephen Hay and there will be life after him, too.

"Is that right, Stephen?" I whisper as I trace a path over him with my eyes, committing his contours to memory because every time I see him now feels like the last. "Ye never want to see me again?"

His eyes redden and he barely nods.

So that's that then. Okay. I am big boy and he isn't all that. There are plenty more fish in the sea. I just have to ignore the heavy pressure in my very centre; a feeling of light-headedness and nausea. I have to accept that I won't feel him in my arms again, kiss him, bury myself in him, laugh at his stupid rants, listen to his banal chat and brush the stray hairs off his forehead.

I won't get to think of him as mine anymore.

"Ye could have just left me to rot in prison." I tell him. "Never mind. Watch this magic trick."

And I keep walking without a backward look at him because that is what he wants.

And it is what I should want to. We are toxic to each other. As I have said all along, I am better rid.

-0-0-

Warren Fox.

I have a bone to pick with him. A big bone.

He was the one that hired Paddy to come over from Ireland to fuck with my life and I am positive that he is responsible for my arrest, too. Prove me wrong. Who else could it be? The bastard is trying to take me down brick by brick.

His motivation? Isn't it obvious? He wants to get his hands on a majority share of the club. My sister, his girlfriend has 51% to his 49%. She has a final say in all decisions and as her brother I am key to moulding those decisions. He wants me out of the way. And he also wants to replace me as bad boy in town because, let's face it, Hollyoaks only has room for one villain of the piece and I was it until Warren made a re-appearance.

Warren.

He'll get what's coming to him and he will regret trying to antagonise me.

-0-0-

Once I get to _Chez Chez_ I take the stairs two at a time. Warren should be here by now. It is well after midday. I walk through the empty bar area towards the office and push the door open.

I am a little disappointed when I see my sister behind the desk. I was ready for a showdown with the fantastic Mr. Fox.

"Brendan!" She says in surprise, "Ye are out!"

Where has she been? Hasn't she read the papers?

She rounds the desk quickly and runs up to me, hugging me so tight that it actually hurts. She buries her face into my chest and I hear her sniff a couple of times.

I wrap my arms around her too and pat her back awkwardly.

"Yeah..." I mumble.

Out of prison and 'out' out.

"Free at last. Free at last. Thank God Almighty, I am free at last." I say drily.

She doesn't reply or move for a long while. I wonder whether she ever plans to let me go. When she does she looks up at me with a red tear-stained face and then she punches me hard in the chest.

"You arsehole!"

"Chez!" I shout in surprise and mouth 'ouch'. "What was that for?"

"Ye ... being an eejit!" She says and punches me again.

"Sis! Seriously! That hurts!" I back away from her.

"Good!" She says angrily. "Ye deserve it!"

I rub my chest gingerly.

"Ye have a lot to put right, Bren." She says as she rubs her wet cheeks. "A lot. From now on, no more lies and no more secrets between us. Agreed?"

I open my mouth to reply but she continues her little monologue.

"And I want ye to talk to Peter. Apologise. Tell him what a dick ye have been."

"Pete and I are... good, sis. Honestly." I mumble defensively.

"And Ste." She says as if she hasn't heard me. "That poor boy."

"He is not a boy." I say.

She shoots me a deathly glare.

"That poor boy didn't deserve what ye did to him."

I feel a headache coming on. I rub my eyes and forehead tiredly.

"I know." I whisper.

"So why did ye hurt him?" She asks.

I look at her questioning face and round the desk taking her seat.

"Are ye still wearing what ye wore to the fashion show?" Her eyes widen as she takes in my clothes.

Why is everyone calling me on that? Fuck's sake, I've just been to prison.

"If it ain't broke..." I say.

"It ain't broke but it's gross." She retorts.

I close my eyes and lean back in the chair. "I don't know why I did those things to Stephen."

I swallow back a surge of bittersweet emotion.

"Why did you sleep with him?" My sis asks softly.

"Because I wanted to. It felt good." I say honestly. I shake my head and pinch the bridge of my nose. This isn't a conversation I am ready to have, especially with her. Emotional truths. Hearts on the line. Not something I am used to.

"Bren, I know it had been going on for some time with Ste. Your relationship. Months."

"Relationship." I laugh then. "We weren't in a relationship."

"What was it then?"

I rub my eyes. Fuck this headache. "Dunno."

"I think he loves ye, Brendan."

"What gave ye that idea; the fact that he is going out with that gym bunny?" I say. I remember Stephen's words in the courtyard. "Believe me he wants nothing to do with me."

"I went to see him when ye were locked up." She says. "He asked after ye. He tried to hide it but it was obvious that he was worried sick about ye."

I sigh. "He really doesn't care, sis."

"Then why would he give ye a fake alibi?" She whispers.

My eyes shoot open.

Fresh tears spring from Chez's eyes. "I know ye killed Danny Houston, Bren. Warren told me after ye got arrested."

I jump to my feet. "He told ye?"

"Yes." She says. "And I didn't believe him at first. But ye had the biggest motive of all."

I feel my cheek twitch as I glare at her, daring her to keep talking. "And what would that be?"

"Warren reckons that just before ye killed him Danny was taunting ye about yer friend that he was going to pay a visit to and that is when ye snapped."

I feel like I can't breathe. My sister knows.

"That friend. It was Stephen, wasn't it?" She says and wipes at a tear or two before reaching a shaky hand out to me. "And ye thought Danny was going to kill him so ye killed Danny first. Because it isn't just Stephen that loves ye. Ye love him right back."

I push her hand off me. I feel like my throat is closing.

"No." I manage to squeeze out.

"It's okay, Bren. Well, no its not." She says. "Killing someone, I mean, but then I haven't had to make that kind of decision. I would have probably done the same. Love makes fools of us all."

My sister quoting Shakespeare. Maybe this is all just a horrible dream.

They all know I am a murderer. My best friend. My sister. My ex-lover.

And now my sister dares to think that I did it all for Stephen.

My archenemy. Warren.

"Where is yer boyfriend, Chez?"

He... is... dead... meat.

"He has gone to see family for a few days. Why?"

I nod slightly and quietly make my way out of the club.

"Brendan?" She calls after me. "Brendan!"

But I can't find him. That's fine. He can run but he cannot hide. Some day he will re-surface and when he does I'll be waiting.

-0-0-

_**Four days after getting out of prison...**_

I lay low for a few days but my sister soon catches on to the fact that _I_ am in hiding.

_- "Sis, ye couldn't go round the shops and get me some razors."_

_- "So ye can sort out yer Yeti face? Go buy them yerself! Last time I checked ye had legs. Stop hiding!"_

_- "Who's hiding?"_

So out of pure vanity I venture out.

A trip to _Price Slice_ in the morning becomes a lunch out with Chez at _Relish_ and a lad's night out in Chester with Peter. I feel safe. I am cocooned by people who stupidly care for me no matter what.

And then I boldly decide to go back to work the next day. Correction. Chez and Peter force me to go.

That is tough. As I get to the top of the stairs to the bar, dressed like I mean business in my sharpest suit, it feels like the noise level goes right down, conversation stops and all looks are directed at me. I feel like running out again. But you know me; I act like it is any old day not the first day back since the 'revelation'.

"Close yer mouth, champ." I say calmly to one of our regular student punters who is looking at me as if a lunatic has walked in with underwear on his head and his cock out. "Before I slam a fist in it."

I smile. He shuts his face.

Gay? And what. I'll still deck ye if need be.

I walk behind the bar and lean on the counter to smile at Rhys and Jackie. General conversation resumes in the club but I still feel the odd stare aimed my way.

"Ye love birds still not fired."

"No." Rhys says nervously. "It's good to see you, Bren."

"Wish I could say the same." I reply. "Where's Warren?"

"Still with family."

"Convenient." I mutter. He is still in hiding.

"So you're back." Jackie looks at me with a knowing smile.

"Ye are sharp." I say sarcastically.

She smiles calmly. "And you're gay."

Rhys throws her a look.

My grin doesn't reach my eyes. I deliberately misunderstand her. "Oh ye know me, Jacks, always happy, happy, happy."

"That's not what I meant and you-"

"Am I paying ye to stand about doing sweet F.A.?" I ask.

"The whole village wants to know who your alibi and lover-boy is." Jackie says undeterred, leaning on the bar's counter, chin on both hands. "Someone we know?"

"Jackie!" Rhys hisses in embarrassment. He is worried about keeping his job. He should be. They both should be.

"No." I say evenly. "I'm single and ready to mingle as they say whoever they is."

"So you ditched Mitzeee." Rhys says.

Both Jackie and I throw him a withering look.

"See, I was speaking to Carmel, Mercy and ma about this and I have a theory." She says ignoring him and smiling at me. Bitch! She is enjoying this.

I raise a bored eyebrow. "Go on."

"There aren't too many guys it could be and the man I have in mind hasn't been in a relationship with a woman for some time, he hangs around you a fair amount and things are always hush hush between you. And I reckon with a new haircut and some fashion tips he would be alright looking."

"Pot. Kettle. Black." I mumble.

"And those blue eyes are pretty special."

My eyes widen. Shit.

She winks at me.

Has Jackie figured out that it's Stephen?

She smiles. "What I want to know is, in the sack, who tops and who bottoms."

"Fucking hell!" Rhys's jaw drops and he makes his excuses, picking up a crate of drinks and making his way to the cellar.

My skin crawls. She wants to talk about my sex life? Well, two can play that game.

"I can guess who is on top between you and Rhys." I reply and reach for a glass to pour myself two shots of whisky.

This conversation needs an anaesthetic.

"_Sláinte."_ I take a sip while Jackie studies me closely.

She shakes her head. "I can't believe you are gay!"

I down the rest of the glass, feel the welcome liquid burn down my throat, grimace and pour another. "Yeah well."

I down the generous glass of whisky (who is counting units?) and pour another straight away. May as well numb the senses so I_ take a further sip._

"Don't get me wrong, I love the gays." She says with a grin.

"Do ye now?" I mumble and sip.

"Yeah and if I am honest, even though I think you are a right wanker, Doug could do worse."

I spray out my drink. "Dougie-boy!"

"Yeah!" She says. "It's him, innit?"

"No!" I wipe my mouth, put my glass down and frown at her as if she has gone mad. "That waste of space! Sort yerself out, Jacks, will ye? Give me more credit."

I give her one more scowl for good measure and walk towards the office, whisky bottle and glass in tow.

-0-0-

_**A week after getting out of prison...**_

After only a few days, the curious looks and the behind-the-back gossip die down significantly. Things go back to normal, whatever 'normal' is.

Honestly, I am a bit surprised. I expected more drama; big lads wanting to have a piece of the queer, gay boys trying it on, sneers and jeers. But instead it is completely anti-climactic. I become yesterday's news in a heartbeat. Just like Chez and Pete said I would.

Chez and Peter.

I have become close to them in a way that was impossible before they discovered all my secrets and lies. When ye have that much hidden in the closet, ye fear cracking it open even a tad in case everything comes tumbling out. But now that I have given it a good clean and airing I feel like I can share and share alike with those two. I am still no touchy feely 'let's talk it out' type of guy but I no longer wince at the mere idea of a 'conversation'. At least not with them.

I value their opinion. That is not to say that I follow their advice and I can tell they are getting annoyed about that.

So when I get back to the flat at 3 am-ish having had a busy day in the suburbs of Chester (it will all make sense in a bit) and an even busier night at the club, I smell an ambush when I see them both smiling at me like they had clothes hangers in their mouths.

"What do ye want?" I ask suspiciously.

"Is that the way to greet yer friend and yer sis?" Pete says tutting.

"Made ye yer favourite." Chez says as she points for me to sit on the sofa and brings two steaming bowls of food to me and Peter.

"Dublin coddle." I say as I give the stew a sniff. "At this time?"

She beams broadly at me when she takes a seat with her bowl.

I look at them both with their freakish smiles.

I mumble in disappointment, "Ma used to force feed it to me when I was a wee boy."

I hate this stuff.

"Eat!" She says forcefully.

I pick up my spoon quickly and wolf it down. After a moment I notice that neither of them is eating.

"Bren?" Chez says.

"Um hum." I look at her, full spoon hovering near my lips.

"Have ye had a chance to speak with Stephen yet?"

I finish swallowing trying to overcome the lump that has suddenly appeared in my throat. "No." I say while looking fixedly into my bowl.

"Why?" Pete asks.

"Nothing to say." Fuck's sake. This conversation again. It is like a broken record.

"How about trying to make amends with him?" He says.

"The point being?" I retort.

"The point being that ye won't walk around with a face like a slapped arse all the time." Chez interjects ever the poet.

"Ye mean this thing of beauty." I point at my face and give them a smile.

"Jesus! It is worse than I thought." Pete says in mock horror.

"Seriously, Bren. Don't unleash that sorry excuse for a smile on anyone with a frail heart!" My sis says.

"Fuckers!" I mumble and continue to munch away.

"I am not saying ye have to get back with him." Peter suggests.

"'Cos I don't want to." I say.

"But I reckon it will make ye feel better to get closure."

"I don't need closure, guys. He was a good fuck. That it. Let's not cry about it. He has that poser from the gym now and good luck to him. I don't need to see him again."

"Okay, Bren. Now ye are just being selfish." Chez says abruptly and I frown. "Ste is my friend, right, and Peter here works with Amy, the mother of his kids. Ye are making things very awkward for us. It would be so much easier if ye cleared the air so that we didn't feel like we were stepping on eggshells around ye both."

"_I'm_ making _yer_ lives inconvenient?" I say with an acid tongue.

"Yeah." They reply in unison. Then Chez injects, "Plus, I could really do with him working at the club again. He actually knew what he was doing."

"So ask him." I say.

"I did and he said no because of you."

I drop my spoon on the floor. I clear my throat, pick up the cutlery and put my half eaten bowl of stew down. My appetite is gone.

I sniff and smooth my moustache down.

"Why act like it doesn't hurt ye to hear that, mate?" Pete says softly.

I stay quiet for some time and look at my confidantes.

"I don't want to see him every day, right there near me at the club, carrying on with that douche of a boyfriend." My voice cracks at the end.

Chez nods briefly and her face softens. "Okay. I get it, Bren. No Ste at _Chez Chez_."

"Good." I stand up to pour myself a glass of whisky. Thinking of Stephen fucks with my head.

"Something came in the post today." Chez says. "A letter."

"Yeah?" I say and take a swig of my drink.

"From Ireland."

I put my glass down and turn to her. "Let me see it then."

She hands it over to me and both Peter and her wring their hands. I have told them about asking for Eileen for a divorce. They clearly think, like I do, that this has something to do with it.

I glare at them. "Could give me a minute guys?"

"Yeah, sure mate." Peter says. "Fancy lifting me upstairs first?"

Chez laughs and I scowl at him.

"Fine." I mumble and open the envelope.

It is not from the Courts. It is from Eileen.

_Dear Bren,_

_I have hit a stumbling block. We can't get divorced. Not yet. The law is clear. We need to have lived apart for four out of the last five years to file. At best we could stretch it to three._

_I have spoken to a solicitor, in confidence of course, and there is a possible way out but I want your approval first. I think it is something that needs a face to face conversation. You may say no. _

_Michael wants to take me on holiday somewhere so I thought we could come over and leave the boys with you for a few days and use the flying visit as an opportunity to discuss the divorce further. _

_The boys miss their father and I know you miss them, too. It would be good all round._

_Let me know what you think. I know it is short notice but we were looking at dates in a couple of week's time._

_Love,_

_Eileen_

I pass the letter to Pete and he and Chez read it silently before looking at me.

"No divorce?" Pete asks.

I am smiling from ear to ear. I ditch the whisky, pick my bowl of food and start eating again.

"The boys are coming." I speak with my mouth full. "Oh yeah, by the way, there was something I meant to tell ye. I was in Chester today..."

-0-0-

_**Two weeks after getting out of prison...**_

Chez and I pull up to the front of a house in a suburb of Chester; our fifth property of the day.

"This one's huge, Bren." She says with wonder in her eyes. "I can see Cheryl Cole living somewhere like this!"

"I think she could do better."

We get out of my car.

"But you don't need to look for properties. The boys will fit in the flat." She says sensibly.

"It's not aTardis, sis. We only have two bedrooms." I knock on the front door of the detached Victorian five bedroom home.

"Okay. Fine, but why buy? Rent for a week. Stay in a hotel with them, even."

"What's yer first impression?" I ask her pointing at the house. I want her to like it.

"I like." She says as she ogles the building. "The best one we have seen today."

"Good." I smile.

"Where is the owner?" She glances through a window.

"Dunno."

"Don't leave me, Bren!" She pleads.

I squeeze her cheek. "Aww, sis, I'm touched but think of it this way; ye can get yer boyfriend to move in if he ever shows his face again, that is."

Her face clouds over. Naughty Warren. Gone without a trace for two weeks now.

"Fuck off." She brushes me off and looks at the brochure. "This says the house has spacious interiors with period features and a good-sized garden. It's newly re-furbished and ready to move into."

"The owners want a quick sell."

She looks at the price then at me slack-jawed. "You can't afford this."

"I can." I say simply. Check my savings. Drug dealing has a ridiculous profit margin. I just never thought I would be using my money on this. "Trust me."

"It has a tennis court!"

"For Declan's hand-eye-leg co-ordination." I say with a grin.

The door opens and a middle-aged woman smiles at me.

"Brendan!"

"Mrs. Evans, sorry we are late." I say and give her a kiss on each cheek.

My sister looks oddly at me. Yes. I have met the owner before. A week ago.

"This is my sister, Cheryl."

"Pleased to meet you. I suppose you want to see the house your brother bought with your own eyes?"

Cheryl's face drops. "You what?"

I smile broadly as Mrs. Evans hands over the keys.

"Welcome to my new house, sis." I say.

-0-0-

_**Four weeks after getting out of prison...**_

Money talks they say. Well my cash-in-hand sang because I got the Evanses to hand over the keys of their property and buy the basic skeleton of interior furnishings for my new pad three short weeks. By anyone's standards that is impressive. The place is a long way from lived in but it is better than bare.

My boys are here and so are Eileen and Michael, God bless that arsehole. They arrived a few hours ago and I had a brush with domesticity when Eileen charged me with keeping an eye on the lamb baking in my newly bought oven. Pat on the back Bren. That was a job well done. The boys liked it.

Now it is the dead of night and the house is quiet. It still smells of paint and looks like a work in progress in parts but with my visitors in it, it has hope.

I can't seem to settle. I throw back my thin duvet, too warm for the balmy night and glance at the clock.

2 am.

I groan and get up. I walk through the upstairs corridor from my room to Declan's and then Paraic's. They could not believe that they got to have their own bedrooms. Paraic nearly fainted with excitement.

They are both fast asleep and I don't disturb them other than to check that they are both still breathing; still here on this Earth to give their father something to live for.

As I walk downstairs, catching the moon's light through the open windows in the otherwise dark house, I have a flash of regret. This is a _family_ home and yet 99% of the time it will be just me filling the void. I hope it doesn't drive me insane. At best, all I can aspire to be is a father with visitation rights. I will never be a family man. Never. Not even if I close my eyes and wish myself straight.

I walk to the drinks cabinet. You know where this is going. In the dark with no disruptions I can think of him. I can wallow in self pity. I can drop the act.

I pour myself a glass of Jamesons. That is all I am having; one glass because the boys are here and I don't want to go paralytic like my old man used to when I was growing up. I am going to be better than him.

I take a seat at the bottom of the stairs, take a sip and let my mind wallow.

It has been four weeks since I saw Stephen which is almost a miracle given how small the village is. He must be taking as much care as I am to avoid places we share in common to avoid an encounter. I wonder what he is up to now at 2 am on a Saturday night. I have a vision of him in bed asleep wrapped around his beau like he used to be with me. I used to complain about it like the tit that I am.

Or fucking. Shit. Stephen could be fucking that guy; someone other than me.

I down my glass and bare my teeth. In my head I release an agonising scream. I put my empty glass down and I remember him how he grinned at me when he realised that I was taking him away abroad. How he would prance around shamelessly naked or in underwear and yet paradoxically be shy about talk that was even vaguely sexual. How he had a domestic streak; picking fallen clothes, making food, brewing tea. How he would cling to me while we had sex and after as if he needed an anchor to reality.

I remember his laugh, pout, scowl, smirk, temper, honesty, humour, stubbornness, his hands, that mouth and arse, his eyes, abs and that crook in his neck. All of it. The good and the bad in him.

I miss it all.

I miss him in my bed. I could do with him now.

I grab my dick; hard as a rock. It has been a while since I got busy, guys.

Fuck it. I am getting another drink. I am about to stand up when I hear a faint,

"Brendan? Is that you?"

Now that is one way to kill a boner.

"Eileen." I cup my junk subtly where I am sitting and smile at her. "What are ye doing up?"

"I thought I heard something." She comes to sit next to me, sees my empty glass and leans in to sniff my breath. "Drinking in secret?"

"Night cap." I say. "Couldn't sleep. Too warm."

She nods. She looks around us. "This house is beautiful, Bren."

"Yeah." I agree half-heartedly.

"But it's too big for one man." She says.

"The boys will enjoy it when they come."

"Is that who you bought it for?" She asks.

"Who else?" I reply.

"I don't know." She stares ahead. "Yer fella."

I don't react, not outwardly.

"I don't have a fella, E." I say sharply.

"Then who is Stephen Hay?"

My eyes widen in the dark room and I search her's.

"I got a call from a detective Ethan Scott about four weeks ago just before ye got released asking me about ye and him."

I drop my gaze and lean my head against the banister.

"Is he yer... boyfriend?" She struggles to say the word almost as much as I do.

"No." I say.

"Was he?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Eileen." I whisper.

"But this Stephen, he is the one that got ye off the hook." She says. "Without him my children may have had to live with a father convicted of murder living behind bars. I owe him a thank you."

"We don't talk anymore." I take a deep breath to compose myself when I feel a warning tingle in the corner of my eyes . Man up, Bren, you pussy.

"Why?" She frowns.

"Reasons... Mine... I'm... no good for him."

"But ye wish things were different. I can tell."

I shrug as if it is neither here nor there.

She looks at me closely. Her pupils are blown wide trying to isolate my face in the dark blue hues of the room.

"Ye were a lousy husband, Bren. There one minute. Gone the next. Shying away from me and my touch so I started to question my appeal. So that I was left feeling undesirable. Unloved."

"I did love ye, E." I say and it is not a lie. It's just that it was never 'the whole caboodle' as our cousins in the States say.

"Yes, but not the way I had hoped growing up with dreams of my future husband. Not that way and I know why now. Ye lived with a secret. But this is yer chance to break free of yer chains. Maybe ye should give it a go... with Stephen."

"I can't."

"Can't or won't."

I don't know so I say nothing.

"I don't think getting this house is about the boys. It is about ye wanting a fresh start. What I can't figure out is if ye are hiding away here or trying to make a house a home with people ye love around ye."

I sigh. I am tired of her amateur psychology. "Maybe ye should talk on things ye know something about."

I stare at her in the dark.

"Like the divorce?" She says quickly.

"If we must."

"We can apply for it in 2-3 years."

"That is too long."

"Then the alternative is an annulment." She whispers.

I pay attention.

"It would effectively make our marriage null and void. The courts could grant it under the clause that I unknowingly married... a gay man." She pauses as she searches for my reaction. I put on my best poker face. "It would have to be legally registered as the reason for the cancellation of our marriage, Bren. That is why I wanted to speak with ye first. I want ye to be happy with that otherwise we can wait."

I say nothing.

"It's okay. I don't need yer answer now. Sleep on it and let me know what ye think." She gives my shoulder a squeeze and stands up. "I am going back to bed."

"Yeah sure." My mouth feels dry.

"Night, Brendan."

"Eileen, I thought we could take the boys to the park tomorrow just you and me and talk to them."

"Talk to them?" She smiles as she gets my meaning. "Yeah. If ye are ready. Sounds good."

-0-0-

_**The evening after the park...**_

I am so angry that we bumped into Stephen and Noah with his kids looking like the picture of domestic bliss. When little Princess Leah made that comment about Noah in bed with Stephen, I nearly thumped him. Noah, I mean. They were a proper family unit. Together. In tune. Fucking perfect.

And I am really angry with Eileen. Why was she trying to get into Stephen's business? Why did she as much as seek his advice on how I should cope with being an out gay father? She has the subtlety of a sledge hammer.

_'We may meet again.'_ She said to him.

No, Eileen. I don't think so.

She comes up to me with two cups of steaming tea in my new kitchen; a peace offering.

"Don't be mad, Bren. You will have plenty of time to hang out with the kids once Marty and I are gone."

Oh yeah. And that's the other reason why I am pissed off with her. She has decided that we need alone time so she has sent Michael and _MY_ boys away for cinema and ice cream. _My_ kids that I hardly ever see, for fuck's sake.

"Says the woman who gets to see them 365 days a year!"

She places my mug in front of me and takes a seat.

She doesn't even bother to acknowledge my foul mood. After silently studying my face calmly she says, "He is quite young, isn't he? A toy boy."

It is as if she just said, 'nice weather we are having, isn't it?'

"Who?" My hairs are on end because I know who she is referring to.

"Stephen. What's the age difference between you; eleven years?" She says and then takes a dainty sip of her tea. "Twelve?"

I shrug. Where is a shovel when ye need to dig yerself a hole to hide in? I speak quietly. "He is old enough."

"He is cute in a curious way." She hides her smile behind her mug.

"Hadn't noticed." I mumble and scald my tongue gulping the too hot liquid.

"That's not true, is it?" She responds. "Ye could barely keep yer eyes off him. I expected more restraint from ye."

"I was not staring at him."

She raises an eyebrow. "And the curious thing is he was trying really hard not to stare at ye... but he wanted to."

"He wasn't." She is making the same mistake Chez and Peter make. They have this fixed belief that Stephen and I have a shot. They don't know.

"I have eyes, Bren. Trust me. I actually felt sorry for his boyfriend."

"He is a moron with muscles."

"He is a cover. Stephen might like him, but ye and Ste ... ye have a special connection." She takes another sip of her drink.

I scowl at her.

"Why else do ye think his fella dragged him away from ye today like some possessive Neanderthal?" She says. "Stop acting like you don't care for that boy."

I look at her.

"We were together for ten years, Bren. I think that qualifies me as one of the few people who know ye well. I want to see ye happy. I need to know that you will love our boys unconditionally no matter who they become and who they are with."

"Ye know I love them more than life itself." I say.

"So then why can't ye love yerself like that?"

Check mate.

Good game, Mrs. Brady. Good game.

-0-0-

The next day I go to _Look Sharpe_. I am in there for less than five minutes. When I walk back out I feel partly elated and partly deflated. I am an arsehole; using underhand tactics to achieve my goal.

I take my phone out and speed dial a number.

"Hey, sis. Ye may want to call Stephen about a job at the club. I think ye'll find he says 'yes' this time."


	28. Chapter 27

So much for wearing my kids out at the park!

When we get home I make quick snacks for them then bundle them into their beds for an early afternoon nap. It takes ages to get them to sleep. Lucas keeps babbling about the dog he saw. Leah can't stop going on about Paraic; saying he is funny and his accent is funny and she wants to learn to swing as high as him and when can she see him again.

I want to scream,

"Never!"

But I keep calm and ignore her. I flick through their favourite short story book. Normally Amy reads to them. I can read, right, but it all seems back to front; inside out. It takes me time. It's hard. Always has been. They called it dyslexia when I was in school. But this book is like a strong sedative to my children so I slowly and carefully read _The Adventures of Mr. Bear and Pojo_ to them, character voices and everything.

Five repeats of the story later and I hear a soft snore. I look up to see them both fast asleep.

I smile as I close the book; partly because I managed to read without hesitating in the end and partly because my kids look so adorable lying there asleep.

I make my way to my bedroom where I expect Noah is waiting undressed and ready for action.

I take a deep breath. Here goes...

Before pushing the door, I get a vivid image of Brendan lying there waiting impatiently for me with those intense eyes staring right into my soul drawing me in. I shake my head as I feel my heart rate speed up.

Stupid Brendan.

Why did he have to be at the park? Seeing him again has brought him back into my thoughts ... more than he normally is. I was doing well, not thinking about him much. I was moving on.

I push the door open and frown. Noah isn't here.

"Noah!" I whisper loudly. I make my way to the living room.

"What are you doing here?" I say to his back as he stares out of a window. I grin and put on my best seductive voice, "Let's go to bed so we can, you know..."

He spins round, face like thunder as he glares at me.

"Are you sure it is me you wanted to 'you know' with." He mimics my voice.

"What?" I am shocked. What's brought this on?

"Come off it, Ste. I saw the way you were looking at each other in the park; you and Brendan."

"What?" I squeak. I feel a nervous sweat coming on. "I wasn't looking at him in anyway."

"He was stripping you down with his eyes!"

"That's not true!" I protest. "And keep your voice down! For one thing, this-" I indicate between us "-is a totally pointless conversation."

Noah scoffs. "Whatever."

I walk up to him. "Believe me; Brendan doesn't want anything to do with me. You are seeing things that aren't there."

"No Ste. I know what I saw."

He is right, of course; not about Bren but about me. I couldn't help drinking in every part of my ex as if my body was thirsty for him. I feel guilty.

But Brendan's feelings are completely different. He couldn't get away from me fast enough.

I hold Noah's hands in mine and softly say, "You saw him being cosy with his wife, playing happy families... acting straight. Let him stay in his closet, alone."

"I don't think that's what's going on-"

I place my finger on his lips, shutting him up. "Look, why are you letting Brendan come between me and you? Why can't we just forget about him and concentrate on us?"

I get onto my toes and give him a kiss.

He stares at me with wide frightened eyes. "I think you underestimate him, Ste."

"I don't. Even if he does want to get back with me, which he doesn't, he can't prise me away from you."

I kiss him again and run my hands over his chest.

I must make this relationship work.

It is healthy.

Noah is good for me. He is well liked, decent and out. Brendan isn't. He is still full of self hate, fighting demons from his past and anger management issues.

I must remember that when I get these waves of doubt about me and Noah like I am getting now.

"It's just you and me, Noah." I whisper while wrapping my hands around his neck. It takes a second before his arms go around my waist to draw me in.

"Yeah?" He asks uncertainly.

"Yeah." I try a smile and he smiles back.

"God! Brendan winds me up so much!" He says in frustration.

I feel his firm warm plains flex and relax against me. Comforting.

"Brendan who?" I ask.

His grin broadens. "Exactly!"

He suddenly scoops me up into his arms.

"Noah!" I hiss.

"What?" He carries me to the bedroom. "We've got to get the loving in before the kids wake up!" He growls.

I try and ignore the sting in my eyes and the stab in my chest caused by the conflict in my heart.

I like Noah.

I can forget Brendan.

-0-0-

"Morning, Tony." Noah and I say in unison as we walk into work the next day hand in hand.

"Morning." Tony replies. "Well, don't you two look every inch the happy couple?"

Noah grins. "You know how it is, boss, a team that plays together works together... and Ste and I know how to play together."

He raises an eyebrow to emphasise his point and I blush.

"Play? Oh! Oh!" Tony looks between the two of us. "Oh! Play! Yes well. Good. Um."

Noah laughs at his discomfort. "We were thinking about getting Emma to fit us in for a treatment later."

When he says 'we' he means him by the way. I would be happy if I never saw the inside of Emma's treatment room ever again after last time.

"But Emma specialises in waxing." Tony frowns.

"Yeah." Noah says.

"Are you getting your legs waxed?" Tony's frown deepens.

"No."

I go impossibly red when I take in Tony's expression. His jaw drops as he understands Noah's meaning.

This ... is ... embarrassing!

I should just tell Noah that I don't like, you know, being totally ... bare ... down under. It's weird. Actually, why am telling you? Forget that I told you, yeah? It is just what he likes and it is good to please your other half, right?

Tony looks so uncomfortable that I feel sorry for him.

Noah smiles and says light-heartedly, "So anyway, got to go. I've got a class in a minute. See you, Tone. See you later, handsome."

"Um yeah, see ya." I mumble.

He swishes off leaving Tony and me to look at each other awkwardly. I walk round behind the reception desk and busy myself doing nothing.

After a while I notice that Tony hasn't moved and is staring at me. I look up at him. "If you are put out by what Noah said, I'm sorry. He has boundary issues and-"

"I have some bad news, Ste." Tony mumbles and then clears his throat and rubs his forehead.

"What?" My mouth goes dry.

"It's about your job." He says. "Let's go to the office."

"Why?" I say rooted to the spot.

"Please." He looks around us at the bustling spa.

"Are you firing me?" I look at him incredulously.

"Calm down, Ste." He looks at the punters who are looking at us unashamedly.

"No! I am good at my job, Tony. I am the only one who properly gets the computer system. I have sold more new memberships than anyone else. I am polite. I don't fuss. I work late and extra shifts for you." I start pleading. "Please. I need this job!"

"Ste." He looks around us and laughs nervously. "Don't be daft. I'm not firing you. It is just that there is a small alteration to your pay."

I glare at him.

Oh.

"That's it?"

He nods carefully. "Come into the office."

I'm embarrassed... again.

"Oh. Okay."

-0-0-

I angrily storm out of _Look Sharpe_ a few minutes later.

Fucking Tony!

'_A small alteration to your pay.'_

What a joke! He has slashed my pay to almost nothing! I tried to negotiate with him but he wouldn't budge on his pitiful offer.

My family can't exist on that. What am I going to do? Trying to find another job will be a nightmare with the job market being so shit. And yet I have mouths to feed, rent and bills to pay, and Leah is going to start pre-school soon. Yeah it's free but her uniform and crayons and stuff won't be.

Shit. Shit. Shit!

And I can't share this. Amy is flying in right now so she's unavailable. Noah is doing a class and also he won't get the pressures I am under since he is dependent-free. Chez is Bren's sister and she would tempt me with a job at _Chez Chez_ and that is an absolute 'no'.

Who else?

I hesitate for only a second.

"Ste. Sorry, mate, but it's kind of a bad time." Pete says quietly. "I am in the middle of a meeting."

"Sorry, Pete. I didn't know who else to call and I don't know what to do-"

I am hyperventilating.

"Wait a second." I hear him making apologies to whoever he is with.

Why did I call him? He isn't even really my proper friend but he is a good guy. My only issue with him is that he is a little too optimistic when it comes to Brendan but then so was I... once.

"Is everything okay?" He asks when the background noise at his end is quieter.

I swallow my pride and then say, "I know this is out of the blue but do you have any jobs going at the school?"

There is a long pause and then he says, "Um, may I ask what's brought this on?"

"Tony has slashed my pay to just over minimum wage. He said that I have been overpaid for the last three months because of a clerical error and that I should count myself lucky because he is not asking me to return the money already paid but he can't afford to keep overpaying me."

"Shit."

"I wouldn't ask but I know that you were hiring a few months ago so..."

"All our vacancies have been filled, Ste."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I have an idea but I am not sure you'll like it. What about _Chez Chez_?" He asks quietly.

"No."

Simple. Emphatic. I am not getting myself in a position where I am near Brendan day in, day out. My self control can only go so far.

"Okay." He sounds disappointed. He knows my refusal is because of Bren. "I may be able to give Amy some extra responsibility and boost her pay check."

"Really?"

"I'm head teacher. I can do anything."

I grin. How can Peter and Bren be so chalk and cheese and yet be close friends the way that they are now; specially after what Bren did to him? Pete is a top bloke.

I end my conversation feeling a little better.

I stand in the courtyard and my stomach grumbles. As usual, I didn't eat breakfast and Noah was on my case about it. He is right, of course. I don't know why my appetite is so shit now-a-days. Maybe I should have something so I head to _Relish_ and plonk myself into a seat.

"Chocolate milkshake please." I mutter to a uniform as I check for messages on my phone from Tony, hoping he has reconsidered, or from Amy saying she has arrived. There are none.

Minutes later a large glass of brown slushy stuff is thrown onto the table in front of me. Some of the contents spill and splash onto my uniform. My useless _Look Sharpe_ uniform.

I look up.

"Rae!"

O.M.G. I did not need to bump into her on top of everything.

"God, I'm so sorry!" She gasps and starts cleaning up.

"It's okay." I say. "You still work here?"

"Part-time. I live in Chester with grandma though."

"Oh. Cool."

We look at each other not knowing what to say next.

"It's been a while since we spoke." She says.

"Yeah." Not since the break up three months ago.

"I've seen you out and about with that cute gym instructor from _Look Sharpe_."

It feels icky talking to her about Noah but, what the hell; she knows I am gay so I nod. "We are dating."

She closes her eyes for a second. "And Brendan's out now. Everyone is going gay."

"Yes. Weird."

"Not really." She says sharply. "Warren told me about you and Brendan."

"I, um..." What does she want me to say?

"I'm not getting at you, Ste. He is a loser of epic proportions and a predator. He was abusing his position as your boss to get his leg over." Bitterness creeps into her voice.

I can't have her think that. "He never forced me to do anything I didn't want."

She sighs and rubs her eyes.

"Anyway, it's okay." She says. "I've moved on. I'm with someone."

"Yeah?" I say.

"Yeah. He is a step up from my ex. He's straight for starters!" She smiles slightly.

"Funny!" I smile back. "I am happy for you."

She looks pensive then, "Can I ask you something?"

I shrug. "I guess."

"You and Bren. Did you ever hook up when we were going out?"

I swallow nervously and then nod. What's the point in lying now.

"He was the first guy you ever slept with, right?" She whispers.

"Yes. But I try not to talk about him much."

"Why?"

I sigh. "Because, in your words, he is a loser of epic proportions."

She smiles at me and pulls me into a tight hug.

"It's a shame you have only realised that now." She straightens up. "The 'shake is on the house, Ste."

-0-0-

I call Noah to tell him what happened; both the salary drama and seeing Rae.

'_Fuck! She isn't going to come after me like some psycho ex and seek revenge for me being with her man, is she?' He joked._

'_Don't flatter yourself!' I said laughing. 'She was actually pretty cool about it. She has a new bloke.'_

'_Really? Should I be on standby for when he comes out, too?'_

'_Don't you dare!'_

He is patient with me when I moan and rant about my new cash flow problem and suggests an evening out to distract me.

So that is how we find ourselves at the _SUBAR_ with the lads as evening turns into night. We are all nursing pints of lager. Riley spots a woman that is eyeing him up across the room and says,

"Is it just me or is the level of hottest through the roof tonight?"

"It ain't bad." Doug agrees as he scans the room. "I'm gonna get me some digits!"

"Yeah, you keep dreaming, mate!" Noah says.

"I will." Doug says and then grins. "After my pint!"

I take a look around.

"Any hot guys doing it for you, Ste?" Ethan winks. "Present company excluded?"

"Ste only has eyes for me." Noah says with a grin as he wraps one arm around my waist.

"Actually, I like the look of the bartender with the tattoo on his arm." I look up at Noah and give him my cheekiest grin.

"Fucker!" He mumbles and kisses me. I push him off when his hand tracks over my bum. Boundaries! Fucking hell!

"It's a bit noisy, innit, for a weekday?" I say pointlessly.

Noah nudges me. "Too much for you, granddad?"

"Having children ages you." I yawn.

"I am never having kids." Doug says.

Riley laughs. "And the world breathes a sigh of relief."

"I don't think life is complete without them." Ethan says.

"You won't regret it." I tell him. "They are so worth it."

"You stick to your kids. I'm going to ask that blond haired beauty with legs that won't quit whether she wants to practice making babies with me." Riley says.

"Such a gentlemen!" I laugh.

"I know." He replies. "I know."

He salutes us goodbye and beelines towards her.

Noah whispers, for my ears only, "How about we go home and practice, too?"

I push him off gently then whisper back. "Um yeah, if we weren't up against science and latex."

He frowns at my rejection.

"So like, how does it feel to be a dad, Ste?" Doug asks.

"Um. Yeah. Cool."I say. "Really cool. But it can be scary sometimes like when you feel like you can't protect them or provide for them the way you want to or when they ask awkward questions."

Ethan asks. "Like?"

"Like, Leah asked me why I give special kisses to Uncle Noah instead of mummy."

"Uncle Noah?" Ethan says with an eyebrow lifted.

"Don't ask." Noah mumbles uncomfortably.

Doug asks me, "What do you tell her."

"The truth. That mummies and daddies sometimes have special people in their lives and those special people gets special kisses."

"Maybe I could deal with one kid." Doug mumbles.

"Are we honestly having this conversation?" Noah asks us suddenly with an edge of impatience. "I thought I was hanging out with my mates and boyfriend. I didn't realise we were the panel of _Loose Women._ What are we going to talk about next? Tampons? Training bras?"

What's with him? It is not like him to have an outburst but it reminds me of little things regarding him and my kids that have grated on me and that I have ignored since we got together.

"Do you have a problem with kids?" Doug asks him.

"No." Noah says quickly and takes a sip out of his pint.

"Don't lie. Go on." I say

"Do you really want to do this here?" He asks.

Shit! He really doesn't like my children! I am not asking him to be their father but we can't go the distance unless he is prepared to be a part of their lives.

"I didn't realise you had a problem with Leah and Lucas but clearly I was wrong."

"That's crazy, Ste." Noah pleads.

"Is it?" I say to him. "I'll tell you what's crazy. I was feeling guilty because we couldn't get to know each other the way other people do. My kids can be a handful and it is tough trying to get private moments without little ones getting in the way. I tried my hardest to ease you in but I can't change them, Noah. I don't want to. They are my life so you are either going to have to get used to them or walk away."

"I like them, Ste. I just need more time to get used to the idea of being a sort of step-parent." He says as he rests his hands on my hips. "Can't you understand that?"

"Yeah." I tuck my fingers into the belt loops of his jeans. I am being unreasonable, right? "I guess."

He looks down at me and says, "You know I love you, right?"

I look at him. Yeah, he does, just like I love ... loved, Brendan. But one thing I have realised is that when it comes to being in a committed relationship, love is not enough.

"Yeah, me too." I say automatically.

"Good."

-0-0-

Amy is back! I listen to her gush about her holiday in Turkey over breakfast. It is all Lee this and Lee that. I barely manage to wedge in the fact that I am unemployed again. She takes it better than expected but then Ames was always one to take a practical approach to a problem. She trawls through the local paper and circles potential job opportunities while we sip on tea and eat toast and that is when I get an unexpected call.

"Hi Ste!" Chez says sounding very bubbly.

"Hi." Why is she calling me?

"I'll get straight to the point. I heard that you have quit your job at _Look Sharpe_ and I figured their loss could be _Chez Chez_'s gain. I want to offer you your old job back."

"How did you know I left?"

"Um, grapevine."

My heart stops when I think of what working at the club once involved other than the job itself; stolen kisses in the cellar, hasty fucks in the office, longing looks across the dance floor, whispered words when no one was looking ...

"No." I squeeze out. "I told you already. I am not coming back."

"I get it, Ste. Ye don't want to be near Brendan but he isn't the monster e have made him in yer head and I think ye will be surprised by how hard he is trying to ... improve."

"No." I repeat weakly. I am actually worried that I won't be able to breathe if I am so near him daily with all my raw emotions knowing that we can never be together. I think I would go insane.

"Ye don't have to be Brendan's buddy. We can work the rota so that ye two don't see that much of each other and I would give you a raise on what you were earning before."

My ears prick up and I actually consider it for a split second but then I think of Noah and Amy and the kids.

"Thanks, Chez, but no."

She sounds disappointed. "Okay, but call me if ye change yer mind."

-0-0-

So I send out job applications, chase up on job vacancy posters in windows, go down the Job Centre, go online. It is tiring and depressing but I manage to get some interviews, which is good.

-0-

"_What experience do you have, Stephen?"_

"I worked in the catering business for a year and then in a club as a bartender for 7 months and I have been a receptionist in a spa for 3 months. I am adaptable, dependable and organised."

"_I can tell you are a keen learner and you are enthusiastic but you lack experience in our field. We would need you to hit the ground running. I am sorry._"

-0-

"_You were sentenced to six months in a juvenile correctional facility when you were fifteen."_

"How do you know that? It shouldn't be on my record."

"_It isn't. We have ways of finding out. Tell me what the crime was."_

"Um. Okay. I stole a car and then got involved in an accident with it that injured a couple of people. I was in possession of some weed at the time. Look, if I could go back and undo what I did I would. I was a stupid and angry kid but now I am responsible. I have grown up. And my life since is proof of that. I have worked solidly. I haven't scrounged off the government. I am dedicated and quick at picking up new skills."

"_Doesn't take away the crime though, does it?"_

-0-

"_What are your qualifications, Mr. Hay?"_

"I, um, I have four GSCEs."

"_Anything else?"_

"Yeah, well, I did a catering course when I was working for a restaurant in Hollyoaks."

"_And?"_

"Um. No. That's it. Sorry."

"_Not as sorry as we are. That is all, Mr. Hay."_

-0-

I lie on my bed staring at the ceiling, desperate, tired and upset.

I am not employable. That much is obvious. I am competing against more qualified more intelligent and more experienced people. No one is ever going to offer me a job.

I feel silent tears stream down my cheeks.

There is one person and I am running out of options so I dial her number.

"Ste?"

"Um Chez, yeah, hi." My voice sounds broken. "About that job-"

"Please tell me that ye are coming back to the club otherwise I am going to reach my hand through the phone's receiver and wring yer neck." Chez says with nervous excitement.

"If it's still available." I say numbly.

How am I going to cope with Bren so near and Noah so far?

I just have to stay strong and remember that Noah is good for me and Brendan is bad.

Simple.

"Of course it is still available, silly! You won't regret this, Ste. When can ye start?"

"Straight away."

...

...

_**Loose Women**_** is an English TV show equivalent to **_**The View**_** in the States.**

_**Next**_** ... our boys meet again but is it smiles or tears on the horizon?**


	29. Chapter 28

I pace around Peter's office. He is speaking quietly on his phone just outside, pushing himself around in slow circles. I can't make out his conversation so I amuse myself by inspecting his room. It is quickly becoming a second home; my confessional, my church. It looks like a typical head teacher's office; intimidating, full of files carrying the misdemeanours and poor grades of hundreds of pupils.

I sit at his chair and put my feet on the desk crossed at the ankles while thumbing through a file containing school reports.

When Pete wheels himself back into the room I don't look up but say,

"Didn't know ye had become so wet, Peter."

Then I read,

"Tom is incredibly bright. It is a shame, therefore, that he spends his time selling the school's art supplies and charging pupils to enter the canteen instead of investing his time and energy towards his studies. I have arranged lunchtime tutorials with his Mathematics teacher as well as suggested he join the school's Junior_ Business_ Society to put his skills to better use."

I look at Pete with a smile, "Seriously?"

He stares at me. For a long time. It is creepy.

"What?" I mutter.

"Ye fucker." He says with a smile. "That was Ste on the phone."

"Oh?" I say. Casual. Disinterested. And what? I don't care.

"Ye got him to leave _Look Sharpe_, didn't you? Took that fat pay check away from him knowing that tight arse, Tony, would only pay him peanuts."

I chew at my gum deliberately and put the school report file down. "I was doing Stephen a favour. That job has no future."

"I thought ye didn't care one way or the other." Pete raises an eyebrow.

"Ye know me, Peter, always looking to help my fellow human."

"Sure." He says as if he is completely unconvinced.

"He'll find another job."

"Right." He nods knowingly. "Like maybe at a club he used to work in, near a man he used to date."

I scowl at him. "We never dated."

"So yis not denying that this is a ploy to get the boy near ye?"

I stay quiet and look to the side.

"He asked if the school was hiring."

"What did ye say?"

"That we weren't." He smiles. "We have a couple of vacancies in the kitchen but ye'd punch me in the balls if I told him that, wouldn't ye?"

I grumble. No, I wouldn't. I'd cut them off and wear them as jewellery.

"What made ye change yer mind. Ye trying to get him back?"

"No."

It isn't a lie. It is just that after what Eileen said, for a mad moment, something drove me to go to _Look Sharpe_ to do what I did.

It made sense at the time. Don't ask why.

"I'm not trying to get him back."

"Okay." Pete says with that stupid smile. "I told him to consider _Chez Chez_."

He winks at me.

Fucker. He thinks he has me sussed. Whatever. He doesn't know me as well as he thinks he does.

I cough and then mumble, "What ... um, what did he...?"

I look down.

"What did he say?" Pete says. "A big emphatic... 'no'."

A sucker punch to the stomach that brings a sting to the eye. "Right."

"I think he is petrified of being near ye."

"Thanks."

"I mean, I don't think he trusts himself to not rip yer clothes off." And he chuckles.

"Fuck off will ye, Pete?" I stand up and walk towards the door. He grabs my arm.

"Ye don't need underhand tactics to get him back, Bren. Just be yerself. Yer not a half bad human being when ye try."

I look down at his hand on me as if it is vomit on my sleeve. "Cut out the emotional bullshit, Pete. I don't know what part of 'I am not trying to get him back' ye are finding hard to understand. I'm off to get the boys before Chez puts them into a sugar coma."

And with that I leave the head master's office. Sorry. Head teacher.

-0-0-

Fucking hell. It feels like I have been painfully holding my breath for a week.

I am sitting with Chez in my living room late one night when she finally gets the call. When she puts her phone down she turns to me with the biggest grin on her face.

"Ste is coming back, Bren!" She throws her arms around me, squeezes tight and rocks us back and forth. "Thank God!"

I feel my heart thudding quickly against her. I can almost feel him already. There. Near.

She pushes off me suddenly serious.

"Um. How do ye feel about it?"

"Yeah." I mumble vaguely.

"I have to tell ye something, Bren. Don't be upset though, yeah?"

"Why would I be?"

"I think that maybe it would be easier, just while he is settling back into the job, to keep ye on different hours."

I look at her sheepish expression.

"Did he ask ye to?"

"No."

"But..."

He doesn't want me near him. I knew it. Screw Eileen and Peter. They don't know what they are talking about. Ste isn't still into me. I was right.

"This is a tricky situation, Bren." My sister says gently. "You know, with everything that ye two have gone through and him being with Noah and-"

I place a finger on her lips. "Shut. Up. Sis. I'm a big boy now. I think I can deal with working with someone from my past. I'm not going to cry myself to sleep because young Stephen can't bear to me anywhere near me."

Her shoulders drop. "Brendan." She groans but she doesn't deny what I say.

"Daddy?" A small voice says.

Cheryl and I turn to the stairs. Paraic is standing on them, eyes barely open and dressed in new blue pyjamas with his old trusty bunny toy cradled tight to his chest. His bed hair is out of control.

Chez waves at him.

"Paraic, shouldn't ye be in bed? Is yer brother asleep?" I ask quietly.

"Think so." He says in a sleepy voice. "Can I have some juice, please?"

I walk up to him and scoop him up into my arms. He automatically circles his arms around my neck. He feels warm against me; full and heavy with sleep.

"Are ye feeling okay?" I rest my hand against his forehead.

"I miss mummy." He whispers into my ear.

Chez makes her way up the stairs after throwing me a quick goodnight wave. Since the boys have been here she has understandably spent most nights at the house than at her flat to hang out with her nephews.

I look at my younger son. He looks so much like his mother. Those innocent eyes. He can't understand that his words break my heart.

I whisper back. "I know ye miss her, champ. But ye'll see her soon. She is having fun in Africa with Michael and ye want her to be happy, don't ye?"

"Yes, but I make her happy with my funny face. Uncle Michael doesn't smile at my funny face though."

"What's yer funny face?"

He grins. "Look."

He makes his eyes go cross-eyed, pushes his ears forward with his fingers and pokes his tongue out. Then he makes a strange gurgling sound.

I burst into laughter.

"Wow!" I say. "That's brilliant, champ."

"I know because I am good at it." He says smugly as if it is obvious and that makes me chortle some more.

"Daddy?"

"Uh huh."

"I want to live with ye."

Um.

Exhale, Brendan. Firm that lip.

Wow. I cough to clear my throat. Why does it feel tight? My throat.

"Ye do?"

He nods earnestly. "And mummy."

"Oh." My heart sinks. I carry him to the kitchen and sit us on a stool with my son on my lap. I clear my throat again.

"Um, champ, you know that we are never going to live like that; me, your mum, Dec and ye. It can't happen again but mummy and I both love ye and yer brother a lot."

"I know." He says and takes an almighty sigh.

I take a deep breath. "And I promise ye that no matter what, if ye are missing me and yer mummy says yes and ye don't have to be in school, ye can come over and see me here in Hollyoaks with yer brother."

He grins from ear to ear and it lights my cold dark heart.

"Okay." He whispers.

"And ye know that yer mum really likes that fella of hers, Michael. He makes her happy so maybe he isn't so bad." I say. God, why am I backing that douche? "Just remember than I am yer daddy and if ye need anything ye can call me."

"Mummy says Mikey is her special friend."

"Mikey?" I say. My son has a nickname for that eejit?

"Do ye have a special friend?" Paraic whispers shyly.

I hear something clang as it hits the floor upstairs. We both look up but can't see anyone.

"Chez?" I guess.

"Um, yeah. Sorry. I'm going to bed now." We hear her mumble sheepishly. " 'Night."

Great. She was eavesdropping on our conversation.

I swallow as my son looks at me expectantly.

"I, um, I don't have a special friend, son. No." I say. "Maybe one day. Would ye mind?"

I hate that Stephen's face pops to mind. I hate that I hold my breath waiting anxiously for my six year old's approval.

"No. Is it true that it will be a man friend like mummy said?" He asks softly.

I want the ground to swallow me whole right now. What has Eileen been telling the boys? I thought that the divorce conversation we had with them was complicated enough. This is ridiculous.

I'm not going there. I'm not discussing _this_ with my young son.

Fuck!

I smooth my moustache down nervously.

The wee fella grins. "I want one of those."

I frown as I feel my heartbeat go up. Have I passed it on, so to speak? My... inclination. "What? A man friend?"

"No!" He touches my moustache and grins. I get his meaning. I bite his fingers trapping them lightly between my teeth causing him to giggle gleefully.

I release them and grin. "One day, all this-" I point at my 'tache, "-will be yours my son."

He smiles at that. "Can I have some juice now please?"

-0-0-

For two weeks we are a bit like Clarke Kent and Superman, Stephen and I; never in the club at the same time... which is fine with me. I'm a busy man but I have noticed that Chez has arranged it so that I am always on with Tweedledum and Tweedledee aka Jacqui and Rhys while she gets to be on with him.

She said that it made sense since, at any given time one of us could be with the boys. I didn't question her rationale.

I make my way up the club steps two at a time and reach the bar.

"Hey!" I say to Jacqui with a smile on my face. Why has she got a crepe bandage around her right wrist? "How are ye doing?"

She looks behind her in confusion and then looks back at me. "Are you talking to me?"

"Sure."

She looks even more confused. "You never smile at me unless it is ironic or sarcastic."

Having my kids around has lightened my mood. What can I say?

"Are we fully stocked?" I ask still grinning. "It's Saturday. Ye know what that means."

She nods. "A night of carnage."

"Exactly." I look at the under stocked bar and my smile drops. Good mood is gone. "Shit, Jacks, what have ye and Rhys been doing? We are running on empty here. Are the deliveries in?"

"Chill, Brendan! The drinks arrived. They are in the cellar. We are onto it, well, not me obviously." She lifts her right hand. "Sprained it yesterday after falling and _FYI_, Rhys isn't here. He is feeling under the weather. I thought ye knew. Chez said she would tell you. "

"Well she didn't." I exhale a sigh of impatience. "Great! Is anyone taking his place? Vince? Jamal? Anna? Wait, not fucking Dave?"

I walk up to her behind the bar.

"Not Dave." Jacqui looks towards the stairs leading to the cellar so I follow her eye line as I hear familiar footsteps.

I know who they belong to before I see him. My fists clench reflexively by my side. I hold my breath.

"Cheryl said she told you." Jacqui says with a smile.

Stephen grinds to a halt when he sees me. He is holding a massive crate of beer in his hands. His eyes widen impossibly.

"She didn't." I murmur.

I scan him up and down slowly against my will; stupid betraying eyes. He drops his gaze immediately but I am more shameless. I take in his black uniform which he fills out with his lean physique more than I recall. His arms pop with more definition under the weight of the crate he is holding in a way they didn't before. His eyes seem bluer, his hair shinier, and his skin smoother, more healthy.

Fuck. Nearly two months of not being with me has done wonders to him.

Well, except for the bags under his eyes and the heaviness in them. Or maybe that is just wishful thinking.

He gets his feet working again and doesn't give me a second look as he places the heavy crate on the counter and begins to quickly put the drinks in one of the fridges. I have to move out of his way to give him room to work.

Jacqui's smile falters as she stares between the two of us. The tension is so palpable; a deaf, dumb, mute person could feel it.

"I was just telling Ste how it is weird that you guys never seem to have shifts together." She says. "It is as if Chez is trying to keep you apart." She laughs loudly at what she thinks is an impossibility.

Stephen and I don't laugh along.

"I'm going down to get more crates." He says to her. "See ya in a bit."

He brushes past me.

"Wait." Jacqui says. "Have you guys had an argument or something?"

"No." We both say simultaneously.

"So what's with the silent treatment?"

"There's no silent treatment." I say and look at Stephen.

Fuck. Is it just me or are his lips fuller than they have ever been?

He dares a glance in my direction and runs his tongue over his lower lip nervously before biting it... like I feel like doing right now; nipping him right there with my teeth before savouring him.

I shake my head and sigh.

"I'll give ye a hand, Stephen." I say to him evenly and Jacqui's jaw drops because I never volunteer to help her and Rhys.

"It's okay. I'm fine."

"Doors open in an hour and ye are working alone until the evening and night staff come." I mutter. "Don't be proud."

He frowns but he knows he cannot protest too much otherwise Jacqui will start to wonder what the fuck is going on even more than she probably already is.

It is my turn to brush against him slowly and deliberately as I walk towards the stairs that lead to the cellar because it has been a long time since I felt him against me and I need a reminder. His body goes rigid against my touch and I try not to let that fact affect me.

I turn to him. "Coming?"

He hesitates and rings his hands together as he looks down the dark steps leading to the place where this crazy game between us went to a new level of intimacy for the first time; where I showed him my hand, my poker hand. I showed him who I was; a man who found him attractive, irresistible so much so that I had to let him know right there ... just me and him in the cellar. I pressed up against him, trapped him to a pillar so he was unable to escape a kiss that tested waters first before diving right in no-holds-barred.

It was the beginning.

"I-, uh." He goes red as he looks back at me briefly. "Um, yeah, okay. Thanks."


	30. Chapter 29

I follow Brendan down the stairs to the cellar getting a waft of his aftershave with every step he takes. God, I missed that scent. It brings up so many memories.

_Just go down to the cellar. Don't talk to him. Don't look at him. Pick up a crate and then get the hell out of there_.

When we get into the dim, damp room I beeline for one of the crates, pick it up and make my way to the door again ... which he is blocking.

I stare at his chest when I mumble, "Can you please move so I can..." I indicate the stairs with a finger.

"What? Ye aren't looking at me now, Stephen?" He whispers. The way he says my name like that causes a pleasant but unwelcome shiver to run down my spine.

I sigh. Why is he making this so hard? Fine. He wants eye contact? I'll give him eye contact. I give him a defiant stare.

"Better?" I ask sarcastically.

"Much." He mumbles.

"Good. Now can I get past?"

He hesitates as if he isn't done with me yet. He lifts a hand forward, reaching out somewhere between us but it loses purpose and he drops it to his side again. He steps aside and I quickly make my way up the stairs, heart beating out of my chest.

"Stephen." He says.

I stop half way up and turn to look down at him.

His face is neutral when he says, "Welcome back."

I practically trip over myself as I run up the rest of the stairs with my heavy crate in tow.

We finish moving the crates up into the bar area in silence and stock the bar together. Jacqui keeps looking between us throughout as if she is trying to work out some maths question. When the bar is fully stocked and ready for the night ahead, Brendan stands up from his crouched position near a fridge, dusts off his knees and hands and says,

"Okay. Five minutes before the early birds start coming. Jacks, open the doors, will ye?"

"Okay." She says.

"I'll be around if ye need." He looks at me but I quickly look down at the bar's counter concentrating on a nonexistent stain with a wet cloth. He spins on his heel and walks purposefully to the office, shutting the door firmly behind him.

I continue wiping and dusting; trying not to think about how this is already so much harder than I thought it was going to be. I am emotionally drained by Brendan's presence. I feel like anything I do might give away my feelings for him and that simply cannot happen. With time I will get over it. Him. As Amy keeps telling me, it takes time especially when what we had was so intense and complicated.

"Ste!" Jacqui hisses and grabs the wet cloth I am using from my hand. "The bar doesn't need to be sterile. We aren't going to be performing open surgery here tonight!"

I stare at her.

"Are you going to tell me what the hell is going on with you and Brendan?"

"Nothing." I mumble and start adjusting the bar stools unnecessarily.

"Bullshit. You are giving him the biggest cold shoulder I have ever seen."

"Mild exaggeration."

"Like he is a ghost."

"No."

Her eyes suddenly open wide with shock, her jaw drops and she searches my eyes. "Oh ... my ... God!"

"What?" I stare nervously at her.

"I get it." She drops her voice. "It is so obvious, I mean, you're gay and he's gay. Duh, Jacqui!"

She hits her head with an open palm and my stomach bottoms out with nerves.

"No." I deny before she even says anything.

"Did that old pervert try it on with you?" She asks.

"Huh?"

"He did, didn't he?" She slaps her thigh. "I knew it! Don't get me wrong, Brendan is cute when he isn't being a dick but you are taken for crissakes. What was he thinking?"

I frown. "Wait you think that is why we aren't talking?"

She nods. "You turned him down, right?"

I grin. "He didn't 'try it on' Jacks. Just because we are gay doesn't mean we all fancy each other."

"I know, but-"

"Look, what is going on between me and Bren is our business, and it's no big deal, okay?"

She throws the wet cloth at me so that it hits me square in the chest.

"You are no fun!" She teases. "I want gossip!"

-0-0-

The club is buzzing as evening turns into late night. The dance floor is crowded, the bar queue is three people deep.

It is crazy busy but I love it and things are running smoothly behind the bar now that the rest of the club staff is here.

Between serving customers I look around as I have done all night. I can't help it. It is like some sick game my eyes have chosen to play and I can't fight them. I eventually find Brendan across the dance floor, leaning on a wall in a corner. He looks laid back and hot, dressed like those male models in them magazines Noah reads. He is nursing a glass of whiskey.

The key is to look at him but not make him notice. That is hard when pretty much every time he is already staring right back at me.

Like now.

I look down as I feel myself go red and then glance back up again. He is still staring.

"Um, mate, could you get me three Stellas and two vodka Red Bulls?" A customer shouts at me over the music.

I drag my eyes from Brendan's and turn to the customer. "Double or single?"

"Double every time."

I quickly make the order while dancing to the music, serve up the drinks and charge.

When I am done I automatically look up again but Brendan isn't by the wall anymore. It's probably a good thing. I should stop this stupid play school 'looks-across-a-room' thing anyway.

I move to the music and continue to take orders until I hear,

"Stephen."

I yelp like a girl and clutch my chest when I see Brendan right in front of me on the customer side of the bar.

Shit, he scared me.

"How's the bar going?" He asks.

I stop dancing and shrug. What is he doing talking to me?

He puts his near empty whiskey glass on the serving counter. "Could ye freshen this up please?"

I top the glass up with some _Jamesons_ and slide the glass back across to him. He grabs it _and_ my fingers accidentally. At least I think it is accidental. He could let go instead he grips them tighter and leans over.

"You remembered." He points at the whiskey bottle I am still holding in my other free hand.

I nod.

'_Stephen. I am going to tell you a story and after I want ye to walk away from me and I don't want ye to ever come back.'_

I pull my trapped hand away from him when I remember those words; the ones he said at _Look_ _Sharpe_ before telling me everything.

I am aware of the impatient customers around us. "Look, I have work to do."

"Are ye talking to me now?" He smiles.

"No!" I frown. "I thought you never wanted to see or talk to _me_ again."

"That would be hard what with working together now."

I look at him doubtfully. I have no problems talking to him. I am just worried about where talking can lead. As I said,

I. Am. Not. Going. Back. There. Again.

I open and shut my mouth a few times not sure what to say. Then I lean over and say,

"Leah has been talking non-stop about Paraic."

I step back and give him a tentative smile.

He smiles back. "Maybe we should arrange a play date for them, what!"

I nearly drop the whiskey bottle.

"Um. Play date? Uh. No!"

I withdraw into my shell, guys.

No play dates.

No way.

No hanging around.

No chilling out.

No. Never.

"It's okay, Stephen. I was joking!" He says and laughs a little too loudly and deliberately. "Fuck's sake look at me. Can ye picture that? Me watching kids playing for hours."

Yeah, I can. Vividly. Only he would act like he was totally over it even though secretly he would love being around the kids, seeing them enjoy themselves. Well, up to a certain point.

I shake my head. "No. I can't."

I turn to the stairs automatically when I see more people come into the club. My eyes widen when I see Noah.

He is alone and dressed nicely. Smart casual.

He smiles when he sees me and makes his way through the thick crowd towards me. When he spots Brendan near me his grin drops. Bren's face is so hard to read when he puts on his poker face but he can't get rid of that tick in his cheek.

It gives his discomfort away.

"Hi baby." Noah speaks loudly over the music and lightly kisses my cheek.

I grin, "What are you doing here? I thought I was going to see you later at your place."

I glance at Brendan.

He doesn't react so I give my boyfriend my best sexy face (I know, ridiculous, as if I have one!). I throw my arms over his shoulders and kiss him hard like its foreplay, pulling him in so that nothing separates us.

When I finally pull away Noah looks at me breathlessly with an expression that is all shocked surprise. You see, I am not into big time PDA like he is so I know that I have made Noah happy by kissing him like that so publically.

Don't ask why I picked now to do it, yeah?

I pull Noah closer to me like a comfort blanket then look at Brendan.

_There. See. I am all loved up now and not with you._

Brendan nods briefly at me. "Well this is cosy." He says.

"Hello Brendan." Noah says but he makes it sound like, _'Die, Brendan!'_

"Stephen, the bar is heaving." Bren says. "Get back to work. Play on yer own time."

He grabs his drink and heads to the office. I want to jump over the counter and stop him and say ... I don't know. Something .

Noah turns to me. "What a wanker!"

"He is right though, Noah. We are really busy tonight."

"How's he behaving himself?"

"Yeah okay." I say. "We stay in our corners and only meet in the middle if we have to."

"Are you sure about that?" He asks as he looks at the shut office door.

"I have it under control." I say firmly.

"Okay." Noah groans seductively as he wraps an arm tightly around my waist and bites at my ear. "That kiss has got me in the mood."

"Noah! Gerroff!" I protest as I push him off me. "I need to work!"

"You want me to go?" He says incredulously.

I nod. "Sorry."

"Okay, handsome, but I'll see you later, yeah?"

"Yeah." I swallow. "I'll call you if I am too knackered though."

He winks and runs down the stairs two at a time.

I let out an almighty sigh before turning to the next customer, "What can I get ya?"

She smiles at me and says, "More drama between your boss and your boyfriend please!"

"Uh, like, there is no drama." I sneer at her. "And also, mind your own business!"

"Touchy!" She says and then laughs, "Fine, then I'll have a strawberry daiquiri and a cosmopolitan."

"Coming up." I say.

"You mean like your boyfriend won't tonight?" She laughs.

Fucking drunk people!

"Funny." I mutter before grabbing two cocktail glasses and some ice.

-0-0-

Jacqui, Jamal, and I finish cleaning up the bar at the end of the night. I am worn out. I am going to have to call Noah and tell him that I am not going over tonight. I can barely put one foot in front of the other.

Brendan pokes his head out of the office and shouts across at me.

"Stephen, could ye come into the office before ye go home?"

I open my mouth to say no but he closes the door shut before I get a chance.

"Are you in trouble?" Jacks asks.

I shrug. "Dunno."

I grab my jacket and walk to the office.

I step inside and close the door. Brendan is sitting behind the desk and continues to write as if he hasn't noticed that I have come in.

"Take a seat." He mumbles without looking up.

"I'll stand."

"Okay." He puts his pen down and looks at me. "I don't want yer boyfriend here when ye are working."

"I'm sorry?"

"He was distracting you."

I shake my head and laugh. "You have got to be kidding me."

"I'm not." He says calmly.

I get angry. "This club is full of couples. Chez was going out with Warren for ages before he disappeared. Rhys and Jacqui are all over each other all the time. You and Mitzeee used to carry on your fake relationship here. So why can't I say a quick hello to my boyfriend while I am working?"

"Is that what ye call what ye were doing out there?" He raises his voice.

"Yes!"

"I will not have that pornographic shit going on in my club!" He shouts and slams his hand on the desk. "It's fucking wrong!"

I am stunned into silence.

"What?" I whisper. "Two men showing affection in public?"

"No, that is not what I meant." He says quietly. He tiredly rubs his eyes and sighs. "I-"

"You know what, Bren, save it!" I force down the tears that threaten to form. He isn't worth it. "Let us set some ground rules, yeah? I'll stay out of your way and you stay out of mine. We talk only if we need to and if you can't deal with a little kiss between boyfriends, Brendan, if that is too disgusting for you, then you can fire me."

We stare off. He says nothing so I angrily slip into my jacket and storm out of the office slamming the door shut behind me. Seconds later I hear a cry of pure rage followed by the sound of shattering glass inside the office.

Jacqui and Jamal look at me with concern. "Everything okay?"

I nod gingerly. "Yeah. I'll see you guys on Monday."

I run out of the club quickly.

-0-0-

I walk briskly through the courtyard and round the corner that takes me out of Hollyoaks' cluster of shops. I can't believe, after everything and coming out, that he is still so homophobic!

"Stephen!"

I am so shocked to hear Brendan's voice behind me that I turn around and remain frozen to the spot in the warm night air while he runs after me. Then I realise that I haven't got the time or the patience to hear more excuses from him so I start walking again.

"Wait Stephen!" He gasps.

"No Brendan! Go home!" I say over my shoulder but he catches up with me, of course, and grabs my arm spinning me around to face him.

"I don't want to hear anything else from you!" I say tiredly. "Go home to your wife and kids."

He drops his hand and frowns. "My wife?"

"Eileen." I tell him as if he is dense. "In your beautiful new house in the country."

"Eileen is on Safari in Kenya with Michael... and my house is in Chester."

I'm confused. "Who's Michael?"

"Her fella."

"But I thought you and her... I mean, at the park a few weeks back..."

He cocks his head to one side. "Did ye think I got back together with her?"

"Well, yeah." I say unapologetically.

"She came over to drop the boys off so that she could go on the holiday of a lifetime with that douche she calls her special friend. We are working towards a divorce."

I did not know that. "Oh."

"Did ye think I was using her as my cover?"

I shrug. "Maybe a little."

"After all that stuff in the press. What would have been the point? Stephen, I'm not... with any woman or ..."

He coughs self consciously and his twitch goes out of control so I finish his sentence off for him.

"Man?"

"Uh." He clears his throat again. "Yes. And you. And Noah. I do have a problem with it truth be told... but not because of it being... two fellas."

He looks down.

"No?" I whisper.

"No." He takes a step up to me and gently cups my chin between thumb and finger before running the same hand down my chest lightly.

I stop breathing.

"You need to know this about me, Stephen. I am not made of stone."

I look at him curiously.

"You and him, it is too much." His voice is so low I barely hear him. "I am not without a heart. I am no Tin Man."

Has Brendan Brady just admitted to being jealous?

Fuck me. I never thought I would see the day.

"Would be nice if ye said something, Stephen."

I think about it. If we are both moving on then maybe we should lay the past to rest otherwise we will both remains slaves to it, right?

"Let's start again." I say.

"Okay." He sighs.

"Because there is so much crap in our past that it is too difficult to untangle. And maybe it isn't important anymore because we can be friends."

"Friends?"

I nod. "Hi, my name is Stephen Hay."

I show him my hand.

He rolls his eyes like I am being lame then pumps my hand three times. "Hi, my name is Brendan Brady."

I lift an eyebrow and pretend to be horrified. "Not _the_ Brendan Brady!"

He grins. "Oh no! That guy is an eejit!"

I laugh too. "You look like him."

"I get that a lot." He says. "But I am all fluffy inside. Fifty percent bunny and fifty percent rainbows."

He raises an eyebrow and gives me a cheeky smile that reminds me of how he looked at me when I would nestle in his arms tangled around him in bed...

-0-

"What's your obsession with these action movies, Stephen?"

I turn up the volume using the remote control on his belly. "Shush. This is not just any action movie, Bren. This is maybe the most amazing movie ever made and you are talking all over it."

He laughs and gives me a kiss on my forehead while I watch _Lethal Weapon_ 4 for maybe the fifteenth time in my life.

"You made me watch _Die Hard _last time." He groans.

"_With A Vengeance_, which you loved."

"Tolerated. And then what was that other one? _The Quick And Furious_?"

"_The Fast And The Furious_. Now shush."

"There are ways to shut me up that are mutually beneficial and satisfying, Stephen."

"Then you don't know me at all. Nothing tears me away from Riggs and Murtaugh."

"Really? Nothing?" His hand goes south and strokes my you know what just the way I like. And usually that would work but not now.

I push him away without taking my eyes of the telly and mutter, "Later."

"Fucking hell!" He groans.

-0-

"So I'll see you on Monday, yeah?" I shake off my thoughts of distant memories.

"What are ye doing tomorrow?"

I look at my watch. "As in Sunday or Monday?"

"Sunday."

"Why?"

"You said Leah missed Paraic, right?"

"Yeah."

"Maybe they should hang out." He suggests.

"Um, yeah, I have to get back to you about that." I need to make sure Ames is cool with it and that Noah hasn't got plans.

He looks at me and then down at our intertwined hands. He caresses my palm with his thumb. I close my eyes and savour it for a second and then pull away.

"Stop that." I whisper.

"Okay."

"I've got to go."

"I'll wait for yer call later then." He says.

"Yeah."

I look at him for a while in silence. It is strange, guys. There is something about Bren that is different. I can't pinpoint what it is exactly but whatever it is, it is good.

"By the way, you have missed the point about the Tin Man." I say. "The thing with him is at the beginning he thinks he has no heart; that he is cold, uncaring and insensitive. But in the end he realises that he had the biggest heart all along. When it mattered, he was always the most caring, loving and sensitive person. It was there all along. Do you get that?"

He rubs his stubble with his fingers. "Yeah. Maybe."


	31. Chapter 30

Stephen.

He is kissing the face off the Gym Bunny right in front of me; wrapping his arms around him with their bodies flush against each other.

He is devouring that eejit that he calls his boyfriend, parting his lips wide to wind tongue with tongue and share spit. I hear his soft groan over the thump-thump of the club's music. I swear. I can fucking hear it and it is like a thousand poisoned spears to my heart.

They kiss as if Stephen has been craving it all day and Noah is all that matters to him. And he is using that mouth that was once mine. That talked too much and bored me to tears. That gave me the best head. Ever. Full stop. That smiled in his sleep when he curled up close to me, subconsciously. That begged me to open up, let him in, be honest. That made me crave more every time I placed my lips on them.

Fuck!

I feel myself shake with anger, frustration or despair.

Words and feelings are bullshit. I have known this my whole life so I don't know why I allowed Stephen to wear me down until I began to think maybe, just maybe ... I don't know...

Anyway, all his words were lies. I should have known.

Meaningless words when we got back from Rome, _'I have had a really great time this weekend. Like the best time of my life. I kind of feel like that every time we are together.' _

Bullshit.

Pointless words when he came back to me after dumping me on poker night, _'__And, by the way, the __thing__ Noah stole from you... you never really lost it, Bren. It was always yours.'_

Bullshit.

'_I want you to treat me like your boyfriend. I want you to know that I am here for you and you can tell me anything.'_

Those insincere three words that he blurted out in the throes of passion, sometimes for no reason at all. Those stupid three words that I tried not to look forward to or yearn for.

'_I love you, Brendan.'_

FUCKING BULLSHIT!

I told you, didn't I? Meaningless, pointless, insincere words.

Romance. Dating. Words and public displays of affection. Love. The act. The emotion. The word. All of it is a load of shit and Stephen has proved this to me.

I look at him as he finally comes up for air after what feels like the longest kiss I have ever seen. He winds an arm around Noah's waist and grins up at him.

Noah grins back cheekily.

I may be a ball of rage inside but on the outside I am the picture of cool. White knuckle fists in pocket and laid back rigid stance. Check. Lazy smile that aches from all the effort. Check. Devil may care attitude. Check.

"Well, this is cosy." I say looking between the two of them as I feel a hollow the size of the Grand Canyon in my chest.

I notice Jacqui eyeballing us subtly while she serves a customer. Nosy bird.

"Hello Brendan." Noah says with a self satisfied smile.

I ignore him and speak to Stephen firmly.

"Stephen, the bar is heaving. Get back to work. Play on yer own time."

I pick up my whiskey glass and I walk to the office because I know that if I stay near them I might do something that I might regret.

I breathe a sigh when I close the door behind me. I stare at my reflection in the round mirror hanging from the wall and down the rest of the whiskey. The man that stares back isn't someone I recognise. He is a pathetic, jealous mess.

When did I become that man?

How can I get back to the hard man that never let anything penetrate my shell-like exterior?

I smooth my 'tache and point at my reflection with my index finger.

"Get it together, Brendan. He is nothing."

I clear my throat and walk behind the desk to take a seat.

Whatever. We can stay apart, Stephen and me. We can continue working different shifts. He has moved on and I am no sissy. I am not about to start listening to sad songs, dressed in pyjamas, eating chocolate and crying like some male Bridget Jones.

I'll find the next warm hard tight body willing to understand that what I want is to satisfy an unbearable itch once in a while without drama, tantrums and expectations.

Easy.

Simple.

So why the fuck is my mind hatching up schemes to get him back and ways to take Noah out of the equation? My plans involve bribery, cajoling, blackmailing, undermining, seduction and persuasion. They range from light-hearted to bizarre to downright violent.

I should let these schemes go. Instead, by the time the night is done and the club is empty I have made up my mind.

I am barring Noah from the club.

Call it self-preservation. Call it scheming. Call it what you like.

I call Stephen to the office to tell him. He doesn't like my plan. Correction. He hates it. No surprises there really. They are close like honey and bees or ...

... Shit and flies...

Anyway, he gets really angry with me. He accuses me of having problems with two guys kissing in public. He dares me to fire him and storms out of the club.

I should let him go so that he can run back into the arms of his beau but I can't, truth be told. For some reason, I find myself running after him and I catch up with him at the edge of the courtyard. For a second I am struggling to find words to explain why I am there in front of him.

As I look at him I feel exposed. Uncertain. I fumble to explain what is in my screwed up heart to him.

I'm sorry, did I say heart?

What was I thinking? I am heartless. Isn't that what Stephen thinks?

'_You and him. It is too much. I am not made of stone. I am not without a heart, Stephen. I am no Tin Man.'_

Yeah, I went there. The truth.

Maybe Stephen's sentimental bullshit is rubbing off on me. My honesty is rewarded, though.

'_Let's start again ... we can be friends.'_

When he says that it gives me hope. I leap ahead to a time where Noah is a distant memory and Stephen looks at me the way he used to. I guess that is why I suggest that his Leah and my Paraic should hang out sometime.

Really. I suggest that. It is as if my body has been possessed by someone else. I am not surprised when he basically rejects my offer.

'_Um yeah, I'll have to get back to you about that.'_

What did I expect, really? Today has proved to be shit.

-0-0-

When I get home, I storm into the bedroom Cheryl's been using, angrily.

"Fuck's sake, Brendan. I was sleeping." She says groggily as she lifts her head up off the pillow she was lying on to stare at me with half closed eyes that she rubs tiredly.

I pace and point at her. "Next time you pull a stunt like that, I'll forget ye are me sister and deck ye!"

She sits up straight and looks confused. "Um, am I missing something?"

"Why didn't ye tell me that Stephen was going to be working at the club tonight?"

"Um, I, uh..."

"Slipped your mind?"

"I, well, I thought that maybe you and him ..."

I don't shout only because I know the boys are asleep, "Ye didn't think though, did ye? What did ye expect would happen between us?"

Now she looks concerned, "Why, what did happen?"

I think of seeing Stephen and the awkwardness, of him kissing Noah, of running after him, of being rejected.

"I know what you were trying to do. It is not going to happen, sis. Get it through yer thick skull."

And with that I walk out and slam the door loudly behind me.

-0-0-

The next day I take the kids to the park. They are with me in the morning and with Chez in the afternoon so I can work at the club.

I keep looking around, mistaking the occasional slim, casually dressed young man walking over the green as Stephen until they turn around or get close.

He isn't coming.

_So stop looking out for him then, eejit!_

After well over an hour of being there I am ready to go. I'm done with the sounds of dogs barking and kids screaming.

I walk up to Declan who is slouched in a swing, looking bored like he would rather be anywhere but here. Between his epic sulk and Paraic's hyperactivity, the gloss of being a dad has been rubbed off for the moment, I won't lie.

"Hi, big man." I slip into the swing next to my older son and we both watch Paraic running tirelessly around like a demented man on speed.

"Slow down, Paraic, or ye'll hurt yerself!"

"Sorry, daddy." He grinds to a halt, gives me a cheeky grin that makes him look like an innocent angel and then starts running around like a mad man again.

I glance over at Declan.

"You alright?" I ask softly and push back his dark hair that keeps flopping forwards into eyes that make me think I am staring into a mirror.

"I want to go home."

"Same." I confide "But let us let the Tasmanian devil have ten more minutes of fun. Deal?"

He stares straight ahead then he mumbles sadly. "Paraic and me are going back to Belfast soon, aren't we?"

I clear my throat trying to rid it of the lump that has suddenly formed there. "In a week, yeah. Yer mum is going to pick you up."

"And then we'll go back to never seeing ye." He says quietly.

I give him a small smile and rib him trying to cheer him up. "I thought ye were sick of the sight of me after all these weeks. Ye don't want to see too much of yer old man, trust me."

He stays quiet for a moment and then looks at me sombrely. "Ye are cool. I like seeing ye."

I smile instinctively. "And I like seeing ye, too, son, and I promise that if ye want I'll come over and see ye more often."

"Like maybe every week?"

"I'm not made of money!" I grin. "But I may be able to stretch to a couple of times a month."

His smile becomes huge, "You can stay with us when ye come."

"Yeah maybe." I mutter as I look out for Paraic who is now trying to wrestle a stick from a small dog's mouth.

"Paraic! Let go, son. It might bite ye!" I shout and stand up quickly. Fuck! My heart is fucking beating so hard with worry.

He immediately drops his hands, looks at the excited dog as if he fancies his chances against it then smiles at me sheepishly.

"It just wants to play!" He shouts back before stroking the dog confidently and running towards the slides.

I sit down again when I decide that he looks safe but keep my eyes on the dog, just in case.

Declan says something to me but I don't pay attention because I am distracted by the dog who seems to be eyeing up my younger son like his next meal... or maybe I'm just being a stupid overprotective dad.

"Dad!" I feel an elbow in my sides.

I turn to Dec. "What, kiddo?"

"Who is going to take care of ye when we are gone?"

"What do ye mean?"

"Ye know, like what mum has with Mike." Declan explains. "Who will take care of ye?"

I smile in confusion at him. "I don't need looking after."

What is Dec going on about?

"That's silly. Everyone needs looking after. That is what mum says. A special friend that loves ye a lot."

Eileen. Boy, she talks a lot to the kids about all sorts, doesn't she?

"Is that what she says?"

"Yeah. I won't mind if ye get a special friend, ye know, as long as they are cool."

"Well for the time being yer paps is happy as things are." I manage to croak out. _Not sure ye'd say the same if ye knew about yer dad, kiddo._ "I'll let ye know if the situation changes."

That's a lie because a) I never plan to have a 'special friend' in the way Eileen means and b) I wouldn't tell my kids if I ever did anyway.

I ruffle his hair. "Okay. Let's get yer brother. I need to get ye to your auntie Cheryl so I can get to work."

"Okay."

As the three of us eventually leave, I take one last sweeping look across the park over my shoulder just in case.

I needn't have bothered.

_He_ isn't there.

-0-0-

I barely see Stephen for a week at work and when we bump into each other, on the occasions where our shifts overlap, he greets me with an awkward "Hello" and otherwise avoids me.

I ignore him, too. So much for friendship. It is as if he changed his mind.

Eileen and Michael come back looking all tanned and happy from their safari. Unfortunately that spells the end of my time with the boys.

I prolong the goodbye painfully because ripping the band aid off quickly is not an option. I bury my kids with gifts to remember me by. I hug them for too long and watch them as they sleep on their last night like a fool. I throw my best jokes at Dec and my best funny faces at Paraic because I need to fill their memory banks full of me so they don't forget that I am their dad, not that posh, over inflated dick their mother is dating.

At the airport, they cry and cling to me for a while before I push them away firmly and tell them to stop and be strong boys for me because we are going to see each other soon. I linger while they make their way through the departure gates with their mother and Michael.

Chez is by my size dabbing at her tears while my eyes are dry. Don't be fooled. I feel impossibly alone and empty. I am reminded of Declan's words,

'_Everyone needs looking after. That is what mum says. A special friend that loves ye a lot.'_

Well, I am afraid that ain't the way the world works, son. Some of us are not designed to love or be loved.

"Ye alright, Brendan?" My sister asks me while sniffling.

I nod and gruffly say, "The little feckers were cramping my style anyway."

She takes one look at me and pulls me into a hug. She whispers, "I'm gonna miss them, too."

So I squeeze her harder, trying to keep my emotions in.

-0-0-

_A couple of weeks later..._

Pete and I head towards _The Dog_ to meet up with Chez and Lynsey for a Barbeque lunch that Jack Osbourne has organised for the village. It is sweltering as if the English weather took a leaf out of the Mediterranean climate book. I am wearing a tee-shirt, jeans, trilby hat, sunglasses and flip-flops and still I am overheating. As I look around me I notice that people are taking the piss with their summer attire.

The minimal clothing look is not a good look for all.

"Can someone send out a memo to the nice people of Hollyoaks that just because the temperature soars above 20 Celsius it does not automatically make them body beautiful." I say as I train my eyes over a young woman wearing a tiny skirt that is fighting to contain a whole load of excessive curves.

Pete catches who I am looking at. "Since when are ye looking at women?"

I raise an eyebrow at him. "I have eyes."

"Fair point."

I turn to him. ""So are ye going to tell me why we going to a barbeque at _The Dog_ when we could flip burgers in yer back garden?"

"It's called being sociable." He replies sarcastically. "Ye should try it more often."

"See that is where we differ. I don't need to feel validated by the people around me. I am confident like that." I say with a grin.

"Ye are a loner, Brendan. I had to practically bully ye into coming out for a couple of hours from that haunted house that ye live in like some hermit."

"Fuck off." I say. "It's not haunted."

"Seriously, people are already calling you 'Creepy-Mr-Brady-who-lives-on-the-hill!" I laugh at his serious expression and he cracks a smile. "Okay, fine, so they don't call ye that but ye must admit ye have gone into hiding ever since ye came out of jail."

"I see half the village every day."

"At work, maybe, as punters or staff." He frowns at me. "Ye need to get some friends and when was the last time ye got laid?"

Really?

"And that's yer business, how, Jeremy Kyle?"

"I'm just saying, I haven't seen ye with anyone since things ended with Stephen."

Now isn't he perceptive?

I stop his wheelchair by gripping the back of his seat and spin him to look at me. He hates it when I do that but it is necessary.

"When was the last time _ye_ fucked anyone, since we are sharing?" I retort.

"Three nights ago." He answers straight away.

I am taken aback. "Really?"

"Don't act so surprised. I do okay for yer information."

I look my friend. Actually, I don't doubt it. I always thought Peter was a nice-looking guy and decent. That is why I did that stupid thing I did all those years back on his bed in his house in Dublin. But in my mind I thought the wheelchair would be an insurmountable barrier that women wouldn't see past. Guess I was wrong.

"So who was the lucky girl?"

"I'm not saying." He says seriously, "Not yet anyway. It's complicated."

"Fine. I'll ask no further question if ye promise not to ask me any further questions." I say.

"Deal."

We are back on the move towards the pub and the smell of barbeque becomes strong.

Meat and open fire. Nice.

We go up the ramp leading to the crowded patio outside _The Dog_ and Jack Osbourne waves at us while he flips meat behind a huge barbeque grill.

"Hey, you are just in time for my special kebabs. Pay your tenners at the till inside and tuck into as much as you want!"

I raise my hand up to my occasional poker opponent in greeting and look around to see who else is there. The answer is pretty much everyone. Half the staff from _Chez Chez_. The Osbournes. The Costellos. A few members of the McQueens. Students from the college and high school that I recognise vaguely from the club or the streets. I see the motley crew (Riley, Ethan and Dougie-boy) with my sister and Lynsey minus Stephen and Noah sitting at a round table with a large parasol. My sister is the only one at the table that greats me. The boys ignore me completely.

Suits me fine.

I don't have time to wonder where Stephen and the Gym Bunny are as my eyes connect with a man that I thought had left the village for good. He emerges from inside the pub with two pint glasses in hand.

A wave of anger rushes through me.

"Warren."

-0-0-

Warren is back in town.

This is the man that has constantly been biting at my heels since he re-appeared back in Hollyoaks all those months back. We have been dancing around each other as archenemies for months until he finally struck first. And his attack was brutal but not using fists.

First, he dated my sister; got a hold of her heart until she thought that what she felt for him was love. Secondly, he hired Paddy to come back into town and turned my world upside down by placing the biggest wedge between me and Stephen. He made Stephen see the kind of man I really was. A murderer. A destroyer of lives. The ultimate coward. Clever, Warren, to take something I cared about from me without shedding blood. He must have known it would weaken me. Thirdly, he got me locked up on a murder charge hoping to get rid of me for good so that he could reign supreme in the village and work towards getting the lion share of the club from my sister.

It was all carefully calculated. I am sure of it. He is a very smart man. I underestimated him.

"Brendan. Pete." He walks up to us with a smile that never reads true plastered on his face. "Cheryl."

My sister turns her head away from him. "Don't look at me. You are an asshole, Warren."

He nods sombrely. "I guess I deserved that. I have some explaining to do. Later. I promise."

"Ye left without saying anything for nearly six weeks!" She screams. "Without telling yer own girlfriend."

"I'm sorry."

"Ye can shove that 'I'm sorry' where the sun don't shine!" My sister stands up and grabs Lynsey's hand. "Let's go, Lynsey! I have lost my appetite!"

I watch as my sister storms off with a reluctant Lynsey.

I stare at Warren when she is gone. He has fucked with my sister. He has fucked with me.

I crack my knuckles.

"Whatever ye are going to do, don't to it, Brendan. Not here." Peter whispers by my side. He knows my theory on Warren so he looks anxiously between us.

He is right. This is not the place for a show down with all these witnesses.

"I'm only here to have a good time." I say calmly while Warren stands with a grin in front of us.

"Same here. You guys have got to try the sausages by the way. Especially you, Brendan. I know how much you love sausages!" Warren grins as if he has made the best joke in the world. "They are Lincolnshire. Delicious. Irresistible."

I look at his expanding waistline. "Clearly."

"We have a lot to catch up on." He says and takes a sip out of one of the beers in his hands.

My cheek twitches like crazy as I cock my head to the side and crack my knuckles. That is an understatement.

"Yeah. We do, don't we?" I could use my fists but maybe brain is better than brawn when it comes to Warren. I must keep calm.

"So ye are out of jail." He says with a smile.

"Yer powers of observation are outstanding, Warren. Ye should harness that skill. That and disappearing off the fucking Earth for prolonged periods of time. There is a vacancy in the villains with superpowers world."

He ignores my sarcasm. "And I also see ye are out and proud." He points at my tee-shirt with a pint glass. "Pink. Nice."

"It's salmon." I say angrily.

"I say to-may-to, you say to-ma-to."

"It's salmon." I repeat.

He grins, "Doesn't make you any less gay though, does it?"

I stare at him and try counting to ten to calm down. I get as far as three before he winks and throws me an air kiss so I hurl towards him. Pete grips my wrist firmly before I can throw a punch, though. Shit, he has ridiculously strong upper arms.

"Calm down, Bren." My friend says.

Warren starts laughing. "Still touchy about the gay thing, huh? It has been, what, seven weeks now since the headlines? I would say it is time to get over it, maybe catch a musical, listen to some Gaga and call all your female friends 'bitch' or 'sweety'."

I sneer at him but don't pounce again. He is trying to get a rise out of me but that is not going to happen.

The crowd is looking at us. Listening. Shamelessly.

Warren takes another sip of his drink. "See I read those articles when they came out and I asked myself what I am sure every person in Hollyoaks was wondering."

I look around me and everyone is staring at the two of us.

What is Warren doing?

"What is everyone wondering?" I ask trying to act one hundred percent unflustered. "How come women can't put mascara on without closing their mouths? Can blind people see their dreams? Why do we think hitting a remote control hard and pressing the buttons on it even harder will overcome a dying battery? These are good questions and I can't say I have the answers."

The silent crowd seem to be holding a collective breath.

Warren laughs at that. "In fear, humour, huh? I like that." Then he goes serious. "The thing is, Brendan, I don't like it when someone plays me. It pisses me off. I am not a mug. So I am going to teach you a lesson. Two can play that game."

I slowly take my sunglasses off. I don't know what he is talking about. He is the one that played me, not the other way round.

"Why don't we take this somewhere more private?" I say conscious of our environment.

Warren raises an eyebrow. "Was that a proposition? Sorry, mate, I don't swing that way."

I grind my teeth together. "Ye are an eejit."

"Maybe you should ask your lover-boy and alibi. Is he still your lover? I forget. You two are on then off then on again..."

"Stop it, Warren!" Peter says firmly. "This is not the place."

My archenemy puts his pints down and then looks around him with his arms outstretched. "See I beg to differ, Peter. I think this is a perfect moment. It is just a shame _he_ isn't here."

"Who?" Jack asks curiously as he holds onto his tongs. The meat in front of him is forgotten and it is starting to smell burnt. Not that anyone is taking notice.

Dougie, Riley, Ethan, Rhys, Mercedes, Carmel, Jacqui, Teresa, Texas, Lee, Darren, Carl and Heidi, Tony. The list goes on. They are all looking at Warren waiting for an answer.

"Brendan's lover-boy. The guy he has been fucking while he pretended to date Mitzeee. The guy he has been sneaking around with behind their family and friends' backs. His loyal employee..."

I hear Jacqui and Doug gasp in realisation. They are ahead of the crowd. They know who Warren is going to say before everyone else who isn't in the know. It makes sense to them suddenly.

I say a small, "No," but I am powerless to stop Warren when he smiles and says,

"Ste Hay."

I hear a clang as Jack's tongs hit the ground. His look of shock is matched by everyone else's.

I look around me at a crowd that has fallen completely silent until fucking Doug says what I am pretty sure everyone is thinking,

"No. Fucking. Way!"

I am frozen to the spot. This situation is making my head combust. I am not prepared for this. I don't know what to do.

Denial is futile, I know that much.

Anyway, sometimes timing is so poetically bad it's good. Well, case in point; at that moment Noah and Stephen walk around the corner hand in hand heading towards the pub oblivious of the bomb that has just been dropped.

They look all loved up and Noah tugs Ste to him so that their chests collide and the Gym Bunny lays a big one on him after pushing him against a wall a little distance away.

Everyone on the pub's patio watches the unsuspecting couple in silence.

Stephen gently pushes Noah away after a while,

"Shit, Noah! Not here!"

"Why not?"

Stephen grins softly and I remember how he grinned at me in the courtyard a few weeks ago in the dark of night and said we could be friends.

Fucking liar.

"Because I am starving and Riley said that Jack was making his killer kebabs."

Noah groans and pulls off him. "Fine."

He grabs Stephen's hand and they walk towards us. They stop when they realise that nobody is saying a word; just staring at them wide-eyed.

Noah looks at me with his usual venom and then gives Jack and his mates an apprehensive smile.

"Hi." He says and then to Jack. "Jack, I think the meat is burning."

"Um, uh." Jack looks down at the charcoal food. "Yeah. Sorry."

But he doesn't move.

Stephen clocks the triangle between Warren, Pete and me. He removes his hand out of Noah's and takes a step back.

Noah continues to look in confusion at everyone. "Did we just walk in on something? Is anyone going to speak?"

Riley stands up and points at Stephen. He looks upset. "Maybe your boyfriend has some explaining to do to you."

"Why?" Stephen and Noah ask together.

Riley spits out. "Because you are a cheating sack of shit, Ste! And for what? That loser?"

He points at me.

"Don't knock this, Riley." I point at myself.

"I am not cheating on Noah." Stephen says quietly.

"Were you honestly the one to give Brendan an alibi?" Jacqui asks in disbelief.

Stephen's face drops as it sinks in that every single person here knows about us being together once.

Noah turns to face him with a face that is the picture of hurt. "You didn't, did you?"

Big, silent tears fall from Stephen's face as he nods. He looks shell-shocked by what's happening. Stunned. Wrong-footed.

"And you didn't tell me." Noah says quietly.

"I-" He wipes at his cheek. "I knew you would be angry."

"What else have you forgotten to tell me?" Noah asks.

"N-n-nothing." Stephen grabs Noah's hand but the Gym Bunny pulls it away. "Can we talk about this at home, please?"

"Did you cheat on me with him?"

"No." Stephen whispers. "Never. I didn't cheat."

The way he says that ... fuck ... he is thinking about those weeks when we got together again. When he and the Bunny were on a break.

"Oh my God! Fucking Rome!" We all turn to see Doug with a slack jaw. "You were the one that went to Rome with Brendan!"

"You what?" Noah asks his friend.

"That romantic holiday I told you about, remember? When Bren said he was in Barcelona." He looks over at me and takes a step back, clearly petrified that he said too much without thinking about the consequences.

Warren laughs. "Fucking hell! This is better than I thought!"

Riley gets up and takes menacing steps towards Stephen with clenched fists. "You fucking liar! We treated you like our friend!"

I block his path, shielding Stephen, and shove Riley away, "Don't ye dare touch him!"

"Get off my son!" I hear Carl Costello shout from a corner of the patio then I feel two sucker punches to my ribs that wind me so that I fall to the floor only to catch Noah shaking his fist in pain when I gingerly roll over onto my back to see who hit me.

Stephen comes to kneel by my side quickly and gingerly touches the side of my chest that I am gripping.

Ethan, Riley, Jack, Noah, Carl and Warren are all poised for a fight.

"Are you okay?" He asks with concern.

I nod, too shocked to wonder why, after ignoring me for weeks, he is so quick to be by my side.

"Yer boyfriend has a quick one-two." I mutter. This is becoming an all too familiar situation, being clobbered by that _jujutsu_ freak.

"Did you go to Rome with him?" Noah asks Stephen as he looks down at the two of us.

"I wasn't with you then." Stephen says quietly. "We were on a break."

"_You_ broke things off." Noah retorts angrily then laughs derisively. "So while we were apart for, let me think, a grand total of four weeks, you managed to get back with him and go on a holiday together. And you didn't think it was something I might want to know when we started up again."

I keep my breathing shallow to reduce the pain from what I suspect are bruised or cracked ribs. "It's not his fault, Noah. I told him to stay quiet. Leave him alone."

"I am not talking to you, you arsehole!" Noah shouts furiously. "Why can't you just leave _us_ alone? You are always there sniffing around Ste like some dog in heat. Don't think I haven't noticed. I bet you were behind getting him to leave _Look Sharpe_ so he could be closer to you at the club again, you dodgy fuck! Get it into your thick skull that he does not want you anymore!"

His rage is unlike any I have seen from him ever but he is right. There is nothing in Stephen's actions towards me these past two months that suggest he cares for me at all. In fact, he has shown that he clearly hates me.

"That's not true." Stephen says through the stunned silence of our audience. He looks at me, sitting by my side on the patio floor.

"What?" Noah asks.

"No more lies." He says to me gently.

He doesn't take his eyes off me for a while. This is going to sound lame but even though dozens of people are listening in on our conversation, it honestly feels like it is just us for that moment. That is how he manages to hold my gaze. My attention. My soul. For some reason, even though those three words should create fear in my heart, they don't. I don't even attempt to stop him from saying what he is about to say.

The important thing right now is that he is right here by _my_ side dressed in that hideous stripy blue polo shirt of his although the khaki cargo shorts and white plimsolls are decent. When I look into his ocean blue eyes they are like gateways to his soul. He hides nothing with them.

He looks at me seriously as he lays a hand flat against my heart and turns to Noah.

"I'm sorry, Noah. I honestly thought that if I tried hard enough, I could get us to work. But I couldn't because even though I think you are an awesome guy, we aren't meant for each other. I wish this wasn't happening like this because I think you deserve better and I am a dick for messing with you twice. I didn't mean to. I avoided Brendan as much as I could. At one point I thought that maybe I had moved on enough to be friends with him but I couldn't. Ever. Because, as stupid as it might seem to you and as unbelievable..."

He grips my hand as it rests on my sore ribs. _I am sorry, h_e whispers to me. Then he faces Noah square on,

"... the reason it could never work is because ..."

He takes a deep shaky breath in,

"... I still love Brendan."


	32. Chapter 31

I walk back to the row of hard plastic chairs in the waiting room of the emergency department holding packets of crisps between my teeth and fizzy drinks in my hands. I hand them over to Pete and Chez before leaning on a wall next to them.

How ironic. We all went to the pub for lunch and none of us ended up eating anything there.

Chez looks across at me and mumbles,

"Aren't ye going to have anything?"

I shake my head before burying it in my hands.

"No", I mumble.

Pete's hand grips my elbow. "Mate, sit down."

I look around to see if Brendan is coming back from having his x-ray done. "I'm okay standing."

Amy's friend gives me a smile that makes me think he feels a little sorry for me. "Hey look, he's probably just got a couple of cracked ribs. He'll get over it. Brendan's been through worse, trust me."

"I'm not worried about that." I say quickly.

They both raise their eyebrows.

"I mean, of course I'm worried but also ..."

Chez nods her head and finishes my sentence. "... What happened at the pub?"

Pete filled her in on what happened after she left with Lynsey.

"Yeah." I say and waves of pain and sadness run through me. "He'll never forgive me."

"He will." Chez says gently while Pete cracks into his crisps.

I look at her as if she is crazy. "You are kidding, right! We are talking about Brendan here, remember? Now I haven't just outed him, but I've also given the whole fucking village a visual of him carrying on with me in secret!"

"It was probably going to come out anyway eventually." Pete reasons but I am too busy reliving the humiliation and shock of the pub.

"I told him I loved him in front of everyone like I was in some cheesy soap opera or something... I am, like, the biggest knob in the whole world! He won't want to know."

"Stop being a drama queen, Ste." Chez said firmly.

"I'm not." I say. I feel like I am hyperventilating. "I dumped my boyfriend in public! Who does that?"

"So why the hell are ye here?"

Pete's quiet words cut through my hysteria.

"What?"

"If ye think it's a lost cause with Bren, why are ye here at the hospital waiting to see if he is okay?"

I look at him in confusion. That is a good question. I haven't really stopped to think about it. In fact, I haven't told you what events led up to Noah and me being at the pub, have I? If you want I'll tell you now...

-0-

A few weeks ago I returned to work at the club and managed to avoid Brendan, thanks to Chez's careful rota fixing. The next thing I knew I was asked to fill in for one of Rhys's shifts last minute, as you know. Chez assured me that she would swap her shift with Brendan's. Like a mug I took her word for it only to realise that she had set me up. She was probably fed up of our childish behaviour and wanted to get us to be at least civil to each other. She couldn't have been trying to get us back together; not after Bren admitted to her how he had treated me and not with her knowing that I was in a stable, long term, exclusive relationship with Noah.

Whatever her reasons, when I saw him at the bar in the club while I was stocking up, it felt like being woken from a deep sleep. Our chemistry, it is so powerful, even when we don't want it to be. I could feel myself get close to the slippery slope that inevitably led to me going back to him.

But this time I was going to resist. I was never going back again.

I didn't have the strength to go through the same cycle of hurt I had been through over and over again;

1. Brendan fucks Ste like he has never been fucked before.

2. Ste falls in love with Brendan and thinks he can deal with being in a closeted relationship because deep down Ste believes Brendan really loves him.

3. Ste reckons that maybe Brendan will come out and be proud to call Ste his.

4. Brendan does nice things that make Ste think that he is changing.

5. Brendan does something really shitty that hurts Ste deeply.

6. Ste wonders what he ever saw in Brendan and leaves him because deep down he knows he deserves better and realises that Brendan will never change.

7. Brendan tries to get Ste back.

8. Ste battles between wanting to get back with Brendan and knowing he should stay away.

9. Brendan's persuasions eventually work and ... Brendan fucks Ste like he has never been fucked before.

10. See number 1.

The only way to break the cycle was to break all ties. Or was it?

When he ran after me after that night, caught up with me in the courtyard, and told me that he was no Tin Man, I convinced myself that we could be friends.

As I walked home, however, I thought of what kind of friends we could be.

We could go out for beers but he doesn't really drink beer and I would get distracted by how his Adam's apple bops up and down like the fucking sexiest thing ever while he takes a healthy sip of his drink. We could go to the movies but then I would have to concentrate on keeping my eyes facing forwards and my hands tucked between my knees to avoid the temptation of touching him in the dark, hold his hand and kiss him. We could do something with the kids but then I would start constructing dreams of a perfect family life where he would protect me and I would look out for him and we would love and care for our children under one roof.

Those weren't the thoughts of a friend. They were the thoughts of a lover. A boyfriend. A partner.

I changed direction and headed to Noah's place instead of home. I let myself into the quiet dark flat (with keys that he had copied for me) and walked into his room. He woke up groggily and looked surprised when he saw me.

"Ste, what are you doing here? I thought you weren't coming over tonight."

He turned the sidelight on. I didn't answer. I wrung my hands nervously together while he looked puzzled.

All those thoughts of Brendan kept going through my head. Thoughts I shouldn't have had. So I made my decision there and then. Despite what I told him I could not be Brendan's friend. I had to completely avoid him.

I had to immerse myself 100% in my relationship with Noah. So I stood in front of my boyfriend at 4.30 in the morning after a long shift at the club and slowly took off my uniform like a strip tease but without music or dancing. Okay, so not a striptease at all. But I held Noah's gaze throughout with my cheekiest, sexiest smile until I was down to nothing. I cupped my groin, hoping it looked even a little seductive and then looked at his through his trackie bums. I could see that he was well up for it already.

_"Stephen, the bar is heaving. Get back to work. Play on yer own time."_ I remember Brendan saying after I kissed Noah in front of him.

Fine. Okay. I will.

"Let's play." I whispered to my boyfriend and crawled onto the bed to straddle his hips and pin his wrists to the bed with my hands.

"Who are you? What have you done with my boyfriend?" Noah asked with a small smile while I began to gyrate over him slowly. The material of his clothes was the only barrier between my arse and his, you know.

"He is right here. Always." I leaned over and kissed him deeply before whispering, "Why are you still wearing clothes?"

He reached out and stroked his thumb lightly over my left breast which glimmered in the dark.

"I love this new addition. Makes you look so fucking sexy." He murmured as he stroked the small ring that pierced my nipple. It was his idea. I think an ex of his had one and he loved it.

"Yeah?" I leaned forward to kiss him and that is when he flipped me over onto my back.

You can imagine the rest, right? I'll spare you the details. I know it is not what you want to hear.

After that night, the extra effort I put into our relationship both in and out of bed seemed to re-energise it. Everyone kept saying that we were looking really loved up. I guess from the outside looking in, we must have looked pretty solid but I always felt a bit of a fraud. I really liked Noah's company and we did nearly everything together that did not have to do with the kids. That was still a sticking point ... anyway ... whatever ... there is no such thing as a perfect relationship, yeah?

We bumped into Jack Osbourne one day and he mentioned that he was holding a barbeque at the weekend. The plan was to have lunch there on Saturday with the lads. Amy had gone back to Manchester with the kids for the weekend to see their granddad.

The day started uneventfully. Noah and I got up, shagged, showered then had breakfast. I called the kids. He called his mates. We went to _Look Sharpe_ for a work out and waxing of you-know-what (because that is how he likes me to be). Then we headed back home to get changed for lunch.

By the time we got to the pub we were a little late.

The pub.

Fuck.

I don't think I could have anticipated what ended up happening there in a million years.

-0-

"Ste!"

"Um." I look blankly at Chez and Pete. They both look concerned.

"Mate, you blanked out."

"Were you saying something?" I ask.

Pete nods, "Yeah. I was asking ye if ye think it's a lost cause with Bren then why are ye here waiting to see if he is okay."

"I don't know." I say honestly and slide into a chair. I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes. "I am not even sure I want us to be together even if Brendan wanted to."

"But ye said ye loved him."

I look at his sister. "Yeah. But love can't sort everything out, Chez. Brendan and me, it's too complicated. We want different things. I don't think we could work things out. Not the way I want, anyway."

"Fuck's sake, Ste!" Pete says quietly. "You have no idea how far he has come. It's not been easy. He doesn't deny he is gay anymore. He is trying to be a good father when he had a shit example of one growing up."

"So then give him a medal." I say sarcastically. "_I_ had a shitty boozer stepfather who slapped me about. _I _had to come out. _I_ have had to be a parent when I felt too young to take care of someone else. Don't ask me to praise him for going through what thousands of other people go through every day!"

"Guys, calm down!" Cheryl says. "Look we are all here to make sure he is okay. Stop bickering."

Pete looks at me and says. "He would do anything for ye."

"No, he wouldn't. He couldn't do the one thing that would have made me happy."

Being my boyfriend for real.

"You have no idea how much ye are his world, Ste." Pete says that so sincerely that I think that he actually believes it but he must be wrong.

Me? Brendan's world. Whatever. I am here at the hospital to make sure he is okay and apologise for what I said in front of everyone at the pub and then... and then what?

And then I am going to take a break from love, lust and relationships for a while. Yeah. That's what I'll do.

"Pete, stop it." Chez says firmly. "Leave it. Now is not the time."

When I see Brendan being wheeled down the corridor that joins the X-ray department to A&E, I stand up automatically and we go to him. He is clutching his side and although he isn't showing it much I can tell that he is still in a lot of pain. Who is the doctor taking care of him? Why hasn't he been given stronger painkillers?

His face changes when he sees me. I think he is surprised that I am here. Then it is as if his features set themselves into that poker face of his and he becomes impossible to read. No pain. No joy. No anger.

Nothing.

Shit. I feel uncertain as we approach him. I don't think he wants me here.

Cheryl stops the porter who is pushing Brendan's wheelchair and says, "If it's okay we'll take him back to the main department."

The middle aged man looks exhausted. "Knock yourself out, love." And walks off.

"Got to love the NHS." Brendan says with a wry smile. He avoids eye contact with me.

"Cracked ribs?" Pete asks.

"Cracked ribs." Brendan nods. "Three on the left."

"So not your personal record." Pete smiles at him.

Brendan smiles back. "No."

It's weird looking at them interact. I have been gone from Bren's life most of the time that he has reconciled his problems with Pete but their friendship is so natural. Effortless.

"Like yer wheels, big man." Pete says sarcastically looking at Bren's beaten up wheelchair.

"Hey! It may not be pretty like yer poser wheels but it gets the job done!" Bren grins.

"This isn't funny, guys. You could have gotten really hurt, Brendan." Cheryl says. Concern is etched all over her face. "When I see that Noah I am going to tell him what is what!"

The atmosphere turns instantly uncomfortable at the mention of my boyfriend's, I mean ex-boyfriend's, name.

"Sorry." She mumbles then changes the subject. "So do you need to see the doctor now?"

He nods. "Just to get a script for pain meds, I guess."

"Okay." Pete says.

"Warren is such a knob. Why do ye reckon he did what he did, like that, in front of everyone?"

"Don't know. He said something about being played, like he thought I had done something to him." Brendan mutters.

"But ye haven't done anything, have ye?" Cheryl asks.

"No. A little banter. Some harmless threats; nothing more."

Pete looks over at me and then at his best mate. "Mate, maybe we could discuss that later. Ste's also been waiting to make sure ye were still in one piece, so to speak."

He looks at Bren expectantly.

Brendan doesn't look at me and acts as if he didn't hear a word Pete said. "Let's go."

"I-" My voice comes out squeaky so I clear my throat and try again. "I, yeah. Um. I'm sorry about your ribs."

Really, Ste? Really, that is the best you can come up with.

"They'll heal." He replies.

"And I am sorry for what happened at the pub."

"Not yer fault. Warren was on a mission." He glances at me. His voice is so low that I have to strain to hear it through the noise of the department. He turns to his sister and Pete, "Let's get the script and get the hell out of here."

"Yeah sure." Chez says in a disappointed voice. Did she really expect a reunification with fireworks, rainbows and declarations of undying love? She grabs the steering handles behind her brother's wheelchair and begins wheeling him down to the main Emergency department.

I begin to follow the three of them then stop. I am unwanted and unnecessary so I say, "Okay. So I guess I'll go then."

Pete turns to me. "Don't ye need a lift? I'll drop ye off at home."

"I'm okay taking the bus."

"Rubbish. Give us two seconds and we'll be done. We can all leave together." Chez says in that way that makes me know that I have no say in the matter.

-0-0-

Fucking awkward.

That is the only way to describe the journey in Pete's car. Brendan is front seat passenger and Chez and I are in the back. Side note- Pete's car is awesome. I didn't know Head teachers did so well. It is also adapted so that all the pedals are on or near the wheel and hand operated.

Flipping cool.

I figure they are going to drop me off first to lighten the atmosphere but after a quick stop at the chemists to buy Bren's meds we head away from Hollyoaks and towards Chester.

I scrunch my face up in confusion after a few minutes.

"Where are we going?" I ask although I suspect I know the answer already.

"Bren's place." Pete says lightly.

Fuck.

"Um, you couldn't drop me off first, could you?" I ask.

"Sorry, Ste, but cracked ribs are no joke and a long car ride isn't going to help Bren's pain." Pete says and then mumbles. "I should know."

The silence that follows is horrible. Filled with unspoken words.

I am sure Pete is thinking,

_Cracked ribs I experienced because my best mate threw me into a road to protect himself from accusations of being gay._

Chez must be thinking,

_Cracked ribs I experienced because my brother attacked me while stealing the club's daily takings I had on me._

I'm thinking,

_Cracked ribs I experienced because my lover couldn't accept he was gay and beat me up because I represented the weakness in himself that he hated._

Brendan adjusts himself in his seat and winces. He sighs heavily and then says. "Don't be a wanker, Peter. Just fucking drop him off first. He doesn't want to be here. Don't keep him against his will."

"No." Pete says. "We are nearly at yours. I'll drop him off afterwards. My car. My rules."

We drive for another few minutes before pulling into a drive in a leafy suburban part of Chester that I could never afford to live in if I saved up for the rest of my life. My eyes widen as I take in the large detached Victorian house in front of us. This can't be the place Bren bought, can it? It looks so ... domestic; not a bachelor pad at all.

I glance at Brendan as he gets out of the car gingerly. Chez and I step out, too. Now what? We drop him off at the door and leave?

Chez looks at her watch and gasps, "Shit!"

"What?" Brendan asks while fishing his keys out of his pocket.

"I've got to get going." She says. "The club."

"You what?"

She looks at us both apologetically. "Ye were supposed to be working this evening but ye can't now; not in yer state. I'll go."

"I'll be fine." He protests. "I'll just dose up."

He reaches forward to put his key into the main door's lock and winces in pain.

"Ye can't lift yer key never mind a crate of drinks." She leans into the car to speak to Pete. "Could ye drop me off at work?"

He grins at her. "Yeah, sure. Let's go."

"Wait!" I say suddenly. They aren't going to leave me here alone with Brendan, are they?

Cheryl looks at me pleadingly as she slides into the front passenger seat and shuts the door.

"Ste, Ye couldn't be a puppet and help Brendan settle in, could ye?" She gives me a massive smile. "Thank ye. Love ye loads."

Pete gives me a sly grin that makes me realise that this was their plan all along.

The fuckers.

I turn round to Brendan and he looks just as shocked as I must look.

"Cheryl. Peter." He warns. "No."

Pete smiles at him from his car seat. "Don't worry, mate, I will be back in a bit."

"Bye!" They both say in unison before the car screeches out of the drive in reverse.

"Ye are a dead man, Hamill!" Brendan shouts after the car while gripping his side.

"Hey careful. Don't strain yourself." I say in concern as he groans in pain and bends over taking in rapid shallow breaths.

He looks at me for a moment. "Ye don't have to mother me. I'll call ye a cab and ye can go."

He opens the house door and shuffles into a hall that leads to a staircase. To the right, heavy wooden double doors are flung open revealing a large modern kitchen-dining area. To the left are two closed doors that I assume must be reception rooms.

"The fuckers." Brendan mumbles with his back to me while reaching into his pocket for his phone.

When the cab company picks up, he asks them to come as soon as possible.

He really doesn't want me here at all, does he? I try not to make that realisation hurt as much as it does.

"They'll be here within thirty minutes." He says when he is off the phone.

"Oh." I say. I am still standing near the door uncertain of what to do next.

"Do ye want something to eat?" He asks.

I am surprised by his question. "Um, No. It's okay. I'll eat something when I get home."

He looks at me and I realise that I am literally plastered to the door.

"Come in, Stephen. I promise I won't bite."

He walks through the double doors so I follow him into the kitchen-dinner.

He goes up to a bar unit and uncaps a bottle of _Jamesons_ before pouring a shot into a glass. Then he tips out a couple of pain tablets onto the table in front of him.

"You shouldn't mix drugs and alcohol." I say quietly. "I think I heard that somewhere."

"Ye can stop pretending ye care, Stephen." He says before throwing the pills into his mouth and downing the drink.

I look at him and wonder how he can think I don't care after what I said at _The Dog _and after waiting for him, sick with worry, at the hospital.

He pours himself another shot of whiskey and takes the bottle and glass to a seat at the large wooden dining table on the other side of the long room.

"___Sláinte_." He mutters before taking a sip.

"And you shouldn't be drinking on an empty stomach." I say. I narrow my eyes at him when he knocks the rest of the glass back defiantly.

"Let me guess; you heard that somewhere, too."

I nod and without thinking I make my way to the fridge, open it and look at what is inside; taking a few items of food out.

"What are ye doing?" He asks suspiciously as he pours himself another glass. Since when has he been knocking back the booze like that?

"Making us something to eat." I mutter as I look at my limited choice of ingredients. "Looks like it's going to be an omelette."

"I thought ye said ye were going to eat when ye got home."

"Changed my mind. I'm hungry and since you seem to be on a mission to get piss drunk you may as well line your stomach, too."

"Get out of my kitchen!" He says angrily and I almost laugh at how childish he sounds.

"No." I reply calmly while opening cupboards to find a frying pan, crockery and cutlery. "Come try and throw me out but I have a feeling that right now you are no match for me."

He grunts and pours himself another drink.

Good. Round one to Mr Hay.

I break some eggs; beat them in a bowl and season with salt and pepper. I slice some mushrooms, peppers, cheese and chorizo sausage (basically, everything I found in the fridge that wasn't a beverage). I chop an onion. I heat a frying pan and throw in a knob of butter. I allow it to melt. Then it's the onions until golden brown with peppers, mushrooms and chorizo. I pour over the beaten eggs and check under once. Twice. I flip it over. I still have the skills. It lands perfectly in the centre of the pan. Nice. I sprinkle slivers of cheddar, fold over, cut in half and slide one half onto two plates.

Done.

I take the plates to the table and put one in front of Brendan. He looks away.

"Where are the forks?" I ask.

"Why the fuck did ye come to the hospital, Stephen?"

I take a seat next to him. "You know why."

I pick a bit of my omelette up with my fingers and eat.

"No. No. I don't." He mumbles.

"I told you." I say, feeling embarrassed. I don't want to make myself vulnerable by saying it again when I know it is one sided. I take another big bite of omelette and speak through a full mouth to lower the impact of my words,

"I told everyone."

He snorts a laugh and slams his glass onto the table. "That ye love me." He says as if he finds the statement unbelievable.

I nod and swallow.

"Yer words mean nothing, Stephen. They are the verbal drivel of a child barely out of adolescence. They come out of yer mouth and disappear into the ether just like the emotions they are meant to convey."

He has some more to drink.

"I think you have had enough." I say, when he pours himself another.

"I'll be the judge of that." He says. Shit. He has started slurring. It is probably the mixture of the strong painkillers as well as liquor. "Ye say ye always loved me but ye fucked some gym bunny for months; hanging onto every word he says. Ye left me when the going got tough. Ye begged me to open up and tell ye everything about me. Everything. And I knew I shouldn't have because no sane person would stay after hearing that. But ye promised ye would. See, I win, Stephen. I was right. Words are pointless."

His head flops forward as if too heavy to hold up, while one hand still clutches at his whiskey glass as if it is an anchor; a life line.

I am speechless. I look at the top of his head and realise how my behaviour over the last few months must have come across to him.

"I was hurt, Bren." I say. I take a deep breath. "Everything I said, about how much you mean to me, I meant. But I never meant as much to you as you meant to me, you know? It was fine at the beginning because it was exciting and I thought that it would change. I thought that maybe you would fall in love with me too. But you never did. I know I am not much. I'm just a little weedy guy who never finished school and got into trouble and became a teenage parent. I know people probably think I am a waste of space but I think, maybe stupidly, that I deserve better than being with someone who is too ashamed to be seen out with me."

I hate the tears that tumble down my cheeks. I brush them away hoping he doesn't lift his face up to see them.

"So I said words that I didn't mean because I wanted to hurt you like you had hurt me. I didn't mean any of it. I never forgot you or hated you. Noah never replaced you. Every day I fought the urge to come back to you; a man that didn't love me back."

The silence that follows is so awkward and long that I nearly get up and walk out. But then Bren grunts and slowly looks up to me. His slightly glazed stare is unwavering. I feel so vulnerable with my emotions laid bare between us, available for a stomping if he so wishes.

He lets go of his glass of whiskey and gently curls his hand in mine and then sighs. I am confused by his action. I open my mouth to speak; to say something.

That is when the doorbell rings.

I feel his hand squeeze tighter around mine for a second and then let go.

"Taxi." He mumbles without looking at me.

"Yeah." I whisper.

I don't want to go. I don't want to leave him like this. He looks broken. I mean, I know he is broken but I mean inside.

"I can stay if you want."

"It's okay." The corner of his mouth curls up. "An ex-chef has just made me lunch ..." He points at his plate, "... and supper." He points at my plate.

I stand up and my feet feel like lead weights. They don't want to move.

He carefully rummages in his jeans back pocket, takes out a roll of cash and peels off two twenty pound notes.

He stuffs them into my jeans front pocket and the rush of blood through my veins from his touch makes me feel light-headed. "This should get ye home."

"Thanks."

I hesitate for a second and then lean in to place a soft kiss on his forehead then rush out of his house feeling like I have just fought nine rounds in a ring with Mike Tyson.

-0-0-

As pathetic as it sounds I spend the rest of what is forecast as the best weekend of summer indoors and in bed. I'm not ill or anything. I just don't want to see anyone. Partly it is because I feel low but if I am honest it is also because I am worried about the village's reaction to me. Will they judge me for dumping Noah in the way that I did? Will they consider me a cheater for going back to Bren when we were on a break?

I get a few calls but I let them all go to answer phone. Warren calls to thank me for providing the best entertainment he has ever had at a barbeque. Wanker. Chez, Pete, Jacqui and strangely Doug ring me a few times to see if I am okay. No calls from Noah. No surprises.

No calls from Brendan. That's even less of a surprise.

By Sunday evening, I wake up from my usual nightmare with a scream dying on my lips, drenched in sweat and hyperventilating. After calming down and getting my bearings my stomach growls so I crawl out of bed to investigate what is in the fridge.

I pick up some cheddar cheese and then head for the sofa in the living room. I flop myself onto it, lying along its length and turn on the telly while nibbling away at the dairy.

After about halfway into a typical Sunday family movie and I feel my eyes go heavy.

The door bell wakes me up. Shit. I must have fallen asleep again. I rub my eyes and look at the TV screen. The end credits of the film are rolling. The cheese is sweating as it rests on my stomach.

This is attractive; me, unwashed in pyjamas, smelling of cheese and sweat. Whoever it is had better not expect a hug.

I open the door and a small smile automatically comes over my face as I take in my visitor who is looking at the half eaten cheese in my hand.

"This is worse than I thought." She says.

I drop the cheese and wrap my arms tightly around Amy. She is just what the doctor ordered. I feel a couple of tears fall from my eyes as I squeeze her even more.

"Okay, Ste. You're hurting me!" She gasps. "Plus, you stink!"

I let go and stare at her with watery eyes.

"Where are the kids?"

"With dad. He'll take care of them for a few days."

"What are you doing back?"

"Nobody could get hold of you. I heard what happened yesterday at the pub and figured you needed a friend."

"Who told you?"

She blushes and tips her head down before whispering, "Pete."

I look closely at her coy expression and rosy cheeks.

Hang on a minute ...


	33. Chapter 32

**It's a long one and I struggled to write it what with the fact that I am on holiday and basking in mediterranean sun...(!). Plus my bloke's laptop is Italian so the keys are not where I expect them... bugger!**

**-0-**

The front door slams shut and I am alone again. I should feel elated. Stephen has gone. It doesn't matter that he fit right in; here in my home next to me while he cut, peeled, diced, fried, flipped ... and back chatted with that goby mouth of his.

So why do I feel like calling him back and telling him to stop listening to what I _say_ and notice what I _do._

What is it in my actions that tells him that I don't want him ... care for him?

Is it the fact that I keep trying to get him back when he leaves me, time and again?

Is it in the way I can't get enough of his body?

Is it that he knows he cracks me up sometimes without even realising he said something funny?

Is it because I want to give him things to make him happy and comfortable?

Is it that I can't help wanting to try to protect him from harm?

Or is it because just now when the doorbell rang I held his hand tightly in mine because I didn't want him to go?

Is that why he thinks that I don't care?

My old man didn't teach me much but I am with him when it comes to one philosophy; actions speak louder than words. And I have never been one for emotional verbal.

Not that any of this matters because I am not sure Stephen wants us together, despite his declarations of love. Who can blame him after everything? And, I am definitely not going there again.

There are so many reasons why it would be a bad idea. I am bad for him. I can never be the man he wants me to be. I cannot make myself vulnerable to another human the way I feel when I am with him.

I take a long look at the whiskey bottle in front of me; my anchor over the last few months, if truth be told. I have worked my way through nearly three quarters of it already. Childhood memories run through my mind where my father sits as I am now, swaying drunkenly, telling me to piss off while he buries overwhelming emotions with booze.

I clutch my fuzzy head and glimpse at a similar future if I continue turning to the bottle when the going gets tough.

I don't want to become like Brady Sr.

_"I think you have had enough."_ Stephen had said.

I stand up slowly and walk up to the kitchen sink, careful not to stumble. I uncap the bottle of whiskey and tip what is left of it down the drain before doing the same to all the alcohol in sight.

Don't get me wrong. I am not making some pussy statement and barring the stuff from my life forever. It's just that there was once a time when I hated being dependent on anything. Remember? As a child, I tried to hold my breath for as long as possible to see if I could exist without air. As a man, I tried to stay away from Stephen to see if I could.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I have better success living without booze than I have had living without air or a certain blue-eyed Mancunian with attitude.

I shuffle back to the dining table, sit in front of my plate and use my fingers to eat the now cold omelette he made.

The flavours explode in my mouth. It is much better than good. Mouth watering with limited ingredients.

Don't ye dare tell him that I said this but that's Stephen for ye; fucking brilliant and he doesn't even know it.

-0-0-

With a clear head and four days of no responsibility at the club I am going stir crazy at home. I am a man used to being on the go with jobs and projects here and there.

My current timetable makes me want to jump off a bridge out of sheer boredom;

Wake up because of alarm. Groan in pain that I had forgotten while I was asleep. Take painkillers. Video call my boys before they go to school. Go back to sleep. Wake up midmorning. Take a shower (allow an hour for discomfort). Brush my teeth. Stare at shit morning telly while drinking a cup of tea and eating four pieces of toast (butter spread only- classic). Pester Pete at work with a phone call. Stare at my phone. 'Make' lunch. Take more painkillers. Take a _walk_ around the block and avoid chat with the neighbours. Doze off on the sofa. Wake up. Call the club to see what's happening, 'Don't worry, Brendan, concentrate on getting better, we have it all under control'. Stare at my phone. Get a visit from either Pete or Chez or both. Eat supper. Take painkillers. Brush my teeth. Sleep.

Pete and Cheryl. No apology from either of them for that stunt they pulled, by the way. In fact, they have tried, in a roundabout way, to find out what happened after they left Stephen here. Clearly, he hasn't said anything to them so I'm keeping mum.

Tonight is Peter's turn to check up on me. I can tell that they have a system going to save me from myself and my solitude.

The two of us sit in one of the reception rooms with footie playing on the widescreen telly. The sport is more his thing than mine. We chat. Banter. Fluff. Nothing that scratches the surface...

Until he decides to go deep.

"It's not going to happen with ye and Ste, is it?"

I try to hide my displeasure at the question and obviously fail because he says,

"I'm asking because I'll stop trying to get ye together if ye tell me it's a lost cause. It's just that I thought maybe..."

"What's up with yer obsession to get us back together?" I interrupt him. It is not the first time I have asked, by the way. It is just that I am yet to get a straight answer from him.

I cough. I have developed a tickly cough today; irritating and painful since it jars my ribs.

He shrugs and grins,

"Selfish reasons, really. I told ye. Ye are no fun when ye aren't getting laid! So I figured I'd give ye a hand getting back in the saddle."

"Pimp." I mumble.

"I prefer matchmaker. That's what friends are for."

"Not to have drinks and a laugh with, watch the game, trouble shoot? No? Pimping; that's what it's all about. Okay."

He ignores my sarcasm. "I could have helped ye find some fit new guy with a nice smile and, um, hard body..."

I smirk and he grins.

"... but I figured there was still something there between yis and Ste. He is a top bloke. Ye could do a lot worse."

"I think I am going to check in on the club tomorrow." I say suddenly.

"Did I just detect a change of subject?"

"Yes. That's because I am not talking to ye about _my_ business..." I drop my voice, "... In that department."

He grins and nods. "I get it. Ye are a repressed Catholic boy who is still battling against having feelings for another man and all the man sex ye have had with him. Ye should get over that, Bren. It's getting old. I don't wake up every morning and light a candle for the loss of my legs."

I throw him a caustic look.

"So anyway," He continues, "If ye need a hand getting the fella back let me know. I am not going to push it anymore."

He wheels himself out of the room towards the kitchen without saying a further word. A couple of minutes later he comes back carrying two beer bottles from a six pack he brought over and put into the fridge. He passes one to me.

I shake my head and point at the glass in front of me, "I'm good with water."

He raises an eyebrow but makes no further comment.

"So ye were saying ye wanted to go to the club. Bit soon, isn't it?"

I cough and take a sip of water. "I'll stay out of action. I need to confront Warren. Get to the bottom of what happened."

"At the pub?" His lips hover near the mouth of his beer bottle.

"I mean everything. The pub. My arrest. Paddy being in the village."

Pete swallows slowly, "Then maybe ye should be in a fitter state."

"I don't plan on fighting him physically. Warren's true strength is his brain not his muscles."

"Do ye need me?"

"You run a school. Tomorrow is a school day." I point out.

"Good point." He puts his beer down firmly. "Right. Got to go."

"What? Ye just got here. I thought we could watch _Die Hard _or a_ Bourne _movie after the game and order some I-don't-think-I'll-ever-see-again-after-eating-this-vindaloo curry from _Rajesh's_."

"Sorry, can't. I have to be somewhere." He avoids eye contact.

I lift an eyebrow and suppress a further urge to cough. "Date with the mystery woman?"

"Maybe." He tries burying a smug smile.

I smile too. "Ye going all soft, big man?"

"She's more than alright, that's for sure, Bren."

"Well then, who am I to stand in the way of true love."

Pete's expression becomes pensive. "Hey, uh, there is something I need to tell ye."

"Shoot." Cough.

"I, uh ..." He pauses, shakes his head and then smiles at me. "You know what, it is nothing." He rubs his forehead. "Long fucking day."

And then he releases a fake laugh.

I frown at him. Why is he is acting strange? Wait...

"It ye aren't messing with me sis, are ye?" I ask.

Pete laughs. "No! I love that girl but not like that."

"Good." I am relieved. Too complicated.

"I'll let ye know when the time is right." He spins round and wheels himself towards the door of the reception room.

"The time will never be right to step out with Myra McQueen!" I say.

"Fuck off!" He laughs. "By the way, when the fuck did ye start liking action movies?"

-0-0-

The next day, truth be told, I feel like shit. The doctor in Casualty said I'd feel better every day that passed so why do I feel like crawling right back into bed?

Never mind. I am a man in a mission so I take a cab to _Chez Chez_.

Climbing the stairs to the dance floor's landing is like climbing Mount Everest. By the time I reach it, I feel like throwing up for all the pain in my side. My cough is worse and I have started wheezing. Not that I show this to Rhys, Anna or Jamal. My brow is beading with sweat as I gingerly walk towards the office.

"Hi boss." Rhys says. "You alright there?"

"Fuck. Off. Rhys." I am short of breath.

"Back to your old self then." He mutters and gets back to cleaning glasses behind the bar. "So you and Ste..."

I take one look at him and he shuts up. "Give me a reason to boot ye out of here for good. Say. One. More. Word... Please."

He looks at his co-workers who shake their heads ever so slightly and then turns back to face me. "No, I'm good."

"Good."

"Actually." He says hesitantly. "Um ..."

Anna and Jamal drop their shoulders in despair at the fact that he is still speaking.

"... I thought you might want to know, after what happened on Saturday, that Warren has been in a few times looking for you."

"Yeah?"

He nods. "He said he'd be coming back today."

"Perfect. We have some unfinished business."

There is a collective shudder from the staff. They know that it won't be an occasion for tea and biscuits.

I make it to the office and close the door. I practically pass out before getting to my seat I feel so weak. I am not due my pain meds for another two hours so I tough it out.

Luckily, I am not kept waiting long for the Fantastic Mr. Fox. He barrels into the office with the grace of an elephant in stilettos.

"Ah, there you are!" He says and takes in my thinly veiled pained expression. "How are the ribs?"

I force a smile, "Never better."

Fuck me, is it me or is it freezing suddenly? I cough.

"My dead grandmother has a better colour than you do." He grins in amusement.

"So we are both doing better than you are then." I quip.

He ignores my comment. "Never saw you as 'the other guy' carrying on in secret behind Noah's back with his bloke."

"Why so interested?" I say in a bored tone.

Warren drops his smile. "I'm not. Whatever. I've been looking for you."

"I've heard." I say.

He clasps his hands behind his back and stands tall, military style. "Let's talk."

"Okay." I gingerly lean back in my seat and clasp my side. Casual. I cough again. "Why did you hire Patrick O'Flaherty to come to Hollyoaks?"

"Who?"

"Don't play dumb."

"Oh, you mean that Irish friend of yours. Good looking guy. I heard that you, him and Pete go way back."

"Why did you hire him to expose me?"

He frowns at me. "Expose you? As in tell everyone you are gay? If I had wanted to, I could have told everyone about you ages ago. I would not need to fly someone in from Ireland to speak on my behalf. I figured he was a visiting guest of yours, nothing more. In any case, as far as I know he didn't really cause any ripples. He didn't out you. That was your boy, Ste, through being your alibi."

"Did ye hire him to split Stephen and me up?" I hiss.

"I think those pain meds are messing with your brain, Brendan. Listen to me. I didn't even know you were still with Ste. I thought you guys had split up ages ago. And even if I did, why the fuck would I want to break you up? It's not like I fancied one of you for myself, for fuck's sake."

He has an answer for everything. And what he says seems to make sense in my weakened state.

I mop my wet brow with one of my sister's scented tissues and try to catch my breath.

"So are ye going to deny that ye tipped the cops off about Danny Houston's death too?"

"I didn't tip them off. We made a pact, you and me. If I put your name forward I would risk going down too. I am not stupid. And it wouldn't benefit me to get you jailed."

"That's bullshit. Ye have wanted me off this turf since ye arrived. Ye have been sniffing around the club like a vulture."

"I could say the same for you."

We stare off.

"Did _you_ give _my_ name to the police?" He says.

"What?" I ask incredulously. God. This cough is getting worse. I have a fit that jars my broken bones and makes me wince. It's gone productive. A yellow-green colour. I would be concerned if I didn't have bigger problems right now.

"Come off it, Brendan. Within twenty-four hours of your release I got a knock on my door with a warrant for my arrest."

I look at him in shock. "It wasn't me. I swear on my own life. Is that why ye pulled that stunt in front of everyone at _The Dog_?"

He nods, "It was a taste of how uncomfortable I can make your life. I spent 72 hours in Chester prison being questioned. I told your sister I was with family. They asked me about things that only you, me and the late Mr Houston could have known. They finally released me. No explanations given. I left town for a while to let things cool down. That was too close for comfort."

So Warren had been in jail, too.

"So who dobbed me in then?" He asks.

"How the fuck should I know?"

"Did Patrick say anything to you?"

"What, why?"

"Maybe he said something that gave away who the real person behind all this is."

I wrack my brains and recall the conversation Paddy and me had in that beat up car in Jo-Jo's garage back in Dublin.

'_Bren, when ye get back keep yer friends close but yer enemies closer.'_

Warren cocks his head to one side. "That's one smart guy. Cryptic but smart. There is only one thing worse than an enemy." He raises an eyebrow.

"What's that?"

"Who else knew Paddy and what happened with Danny Houston? Stephen? Peter?"

"No." I say quietly but firmly. "Never."

They would never do that to me.

"Oh Brendan, you are so naive." He grins. "Now, I am no psychologist but I would imagine that if you put me in a wheelchair for life or beat me repeatedly I would be pretty pissed off. Just a thought."

The ache in my side amplifies as my head throbs. As much as I deny it, they both had means, motive and opportunity but my mind refuses to accept the possibility. Have I have been played like a fool all this time? If none of this is Warren's doing then there is only one real alternative option.

'_Hey, uh, there is something I need to tell ye, Bren.'_

'_Shoot.'_

'_I, uh ... You know what, it is nothing.' Peter said._

"As I was saying there is only one thing worse than an enemy." Warren says. "An enemy who acts like your best friend."

-0-0-

By the time the taxi drops me off at the high school, I can barely think straight for all the rage and feelings of betrayal. Believe me, without the booze, my emotions ride high.

I walk slowly to the head teacher's office ignoring the pain that is like a thousand daggers in my side and battling against lungs that seem unable to fill themselves with the air I need. I try to barge in without knocking but the door is locked. That's strange. Pete operates an open door policy.

So I bang against it loudly attracting funny looks from students passing by. I must look creepy. Wide angry eyes in a red face, dressed in a white tee-shirt drenched in sweat, black jeans and loafers. I clutch my side as if it will fall off with a tissue in my other hand.

I hiss in the students' direction and they scatter.

"Pete! Open up!" I wheeze and then cough loudly.

"Jesus, Brendan!" I hear him gasp from inside the office. "Mate, um, I'm in a meeting."

"Meeting's over! Open the fucking door!"

A moment later, Pete pokes his head through the door and is faced with me and half a dozen curious pupils.

"Mr Hamill, this man was looking for you." One of the students says, stating the fucking obvious.

Peter looks at me. "Yes. Thank you, Ken, I'll take it from here. Shouldn't ye lot be on yer way to yer next classes?"

A chorus of 'Yes, Mr Hamill' and 'Sorry, Mr Hamill' is followed by dispersal of the group until it is just Peter, me and ...

The door opens wide to reveal Amy. She sneaks out of his office sheepishly and barely makes eye contact with me as she subtly adjusts her skirt.

I cock my head to the side, processing the information before me. Peter and Amy locked in an office looking a little dishevelled and flustered.

She's the one Pete is sticking it in, excuse my French. Little Miss High and Mighty is playing away what with the fact that she's dating Lee Hunter from the college.

"We'll continue our meeting later, Miss Barnes." Peter says before clearing his throat awkwardly and taming his hair.

Is that what the kids call it now-a-days?

"Yes, Mr Hamill," She blushes as she slips past me. "Brendan."

"Two-timer. Oops, I mean, Miss Barnes." I wheeze and then cough into a tissue to collect the phlegm that comes up. Lovely.

She throws me a withering look, "I'd get checked if I were you. You look terrible," And she walks away quickly.

"Charming." I drawl.

Peter looks at me expectantly. "So how did things go with Warren?"

I look in the direction Amy disappeared and say. "I hope ye are double bagging with her, Peter. From her track record, I'd be surprised if she doesn't already have a bun in the oven, so to speak. Yer... bun... of course... or that Lee Hunter's. Who knows?"

"Don't fucking talk about her like that." He growls.

I look at him; the guy I called my best friend as a young man. The guy that had become my right hand man as a grown man.

The guy I trusted. The guy who betrayed me.

"Like what?" I say as I back him into his office and then shut the door behind us. "The truth hurts, doesn't it?"

"That's yer truth twisted to make her sound cheap. Ye don't know the first thing about her. If ye did you wouldn't judge her."

"Fuck Amy. That is not why I am here."

He wheels himself behind his desk. "I knew ye wouldn't be happy for me. She's not yer number one fan either, ye know."

Oh, I know. She is the one person who hates me the most in the village (yes, more than Noah, Rae, Warren, Mitzeee ... ye know I am right). That said, I respect her. She is feisty, violently protective and fierce. Stephen needs someone like her in his life to steer him away from bad men like me.

That does not mean I like her.

"The irony is we grew closer because of ye and Ste. We used to talk about yis for hours. Our fucked up best mates. Even before you and me were mates again."

"Best mates?" I ask. This time when I cough into the tissue, the sputum comes up with streaks of blood. Fuck.

I cover up the evidence.

"Well, yeah. I mean, that's what it is, right?" He looks closely at me. "Amy is right, ye are looking grey. Should I take ye to the doctor's?"

I lift my hand dismissively and glance at the clock. Thank fucking Christ. I lean on a chest of drawers gingerly, reach into my jeans pocket and take out my bottle of pain tablets. I tip two back into my mouth and dry swallow. I'm sure I'll feel better once they kick in because right now I feel the roughest I have ever felt.

Once I am done here I am having a date with my bed.

"We are best mates?" I whisper angrily.

He looks at me like I am crazy. "Have they upped yer pain tablets? What's yer problem?"

"A best mate does not tip the cops off and get his friend arrested for murder."

Pete looks blankly at me.

"A best mate does not hire someone to come into town to fuck up his friend's life by driving a wedge between him and his..." I pause, "... uh, the guy he is seeing."

Pete looks down at his desk. "Fuck." He whispers.

"Ye aren't denying it." I feel numb.

"Yes! No!" Pete stares at me in distress. "Let me explain."

Oh my God. Warren was right. It was Peter all along.

"Brendan, when I first came to Hollyoaks and I saw ye, the past came flooding back. I was full of pent up anger. I hated ye."

"It was you." I wheeze. I don't want to hear any reasons he might have.

I clutch my chest as I feel a wave of light-headedness caused by shortness of breath. I fall back onto the chest of drawers.

"I want ye to hear me out. Firstly, I did not get ye arrested. But ye fucking crushed my dreams, Bren. Ye destroyed my football career. Ye fucked up my relationship with my girlfriend. The friends I had left." He raises his voice. "Ye fucked up the life I had. I wanted ye to know how that felt."

I bite back with an instinct to defend and attack. "Ye could have owned up to it; worn it on yer sleeve like a badge. Instead ye went to Paddy to do yer dirty work and then ye pretended to be my friend. Ye are a fucking coward, Peter!"

I know that my anger towards him is just a boomerang; anger at myself for how shit I have been to him; to everyone close to me.

"I'm the coward? Shit, Brendan, listen to yerself. Ye can't own up to who ye are, who you love or what ye have done. You are the coward. I went to Paddy as part of my revenge. Hiding yer sexuality from him got me into this chair; that's why I told him. I told him everything I knew about ye and Ste as a couple. I wanted to work him up into the same homophobic frenzy he got into on your farewell night in Dublin. I told him that nobody knew that you were gay and with Ste and that if anyone found out it would be the end of you. I told him _you_ kissed _me_ that night; not the other way round. By the end, I knew he was going to come after ye."

"Ye wanted me dead."

He shakes his head. "No. Broken. Upset. Shaken. But not dead. I wanted ye to change, ye asshole!"

Change?

"I told Paddy that whatever he did, I didn't want Ste hurt. None of this was his fault. I have wanted to tell ye for a long time but it became harder as our friendship grew."

"There is no friendship, Peter." I spit out. Even I wince at my words. Words of self-preservation. Lies. "Paddy said ye hired him and threatened those he loved."

"I never threatened him." Pete says. "I never paid him. And, as it happens, he didn't do what I wanted anyway. I didn't tell him about what happened with Danny Houston so I definitely didn't ask him to force ye to tell Stephen what happened."

"Liar."

"It was Warren, Brendan. Ye know that. What did he say to make ye change yer mind?"

I clutch my forehead. My breathlessness is so bad that I gasp between words. I grip the chest of drawers I am leaning on with the hand not occupied with clasping my side. "I ... have ... spoken ... to ... Warren. He denies everything."

"Of course he does. He is a master con artist and criminal. All I ever wanted, Bren, was for ye to show that what ye did to me affected ye somehow. Instead ye ran away. Ye didn't call to see if I was okay. Ye didn't apologise. Ye didn't care. Ye were cold. Heartless."

Heartless? No. I was scared, worried, ashamed, and guilty.

And now I feel breathless, hot, cold, shivering, sweating, in pain.

"And this is all yer doing, Bren. Ye know it is. If ye had accepted who ye were like I told ye all those years ago people like Warren and Danny would have had no ammunition against ye. Ye wouldn't have needed to push me into a busy road. Ye wouldn't have fallen out with yer sister. Ye might still have Stephen. Ye are a great brother, loyal friend and doting father when ye want to be. Ye just need to man up and express yer emotions. Fucking be who ye really are!"

I try to concentrate on Pete's words but I can feel my grip on reality slip away as my head goes fuzzy and my body weakens further. My anger towards him disappears. It is overtaken by my illness. Yeah. I'm not well and that might be an understatement. I should have realised that sooner instead of running after an enemy with a quick answer to everything and a friend with good intentions.

Peter is right. I am chasing my tail here.

I am not one to talk about emotions. Sentimental words stick in my throat, clogging it up so that I am left breathless and suffocating.

Despite this I have tried. Have you noticed? Remember?

- '_I got you that bed because even when you are with Rae... fuck.'_

- '_I wanted to see you, Stephen.' _

- '_Let me go, Brendan!', 'What so you can be with that Noah bloke? I can't.'_

- '_Did you and him...? Have you slept together?'_

- '_This doesn't feel seedy to me.' _

- '_Say you love me.'_

- '_I missed ye, Stephen.'_

- '_I am not made of stone. Ye and him, it is too much and I am not without a heart. I am no Tin Man.'_

Remember? I tried but I guess my attempts were like drops of water in the ocean, gone before they made any impact.

"Say something, Brendan." Peter says.

I don't know what to say. That has always been my problem. Fine, I admit it. It _is_ a problem.

"I-" I wheeze. I feel like lying down, but I can't; not before letting Pete know that I get why he did what he did and I have no bad feelings towards him. I mop my wet brow again and close my eyes as a deep shudder runs through me.

My mind travels to Saturday where Stephen knelt next to me at the pub in front of everyone and told them, with that fierce bravery of his, that he loves me.

My mouth curves up into a grin automatically. He is far stronger than I am. Always has been. Don't tell him that I said that either.

"Brendan?" Peter's voice seems far away like a shout heard at the end of a long empty tunnel. I feel overheated. I feel ice cold. My side is in pain and I can't breathe.

"Peter." I say weakly as I lean forward to feel for the ground. "I'm sorry-"

"Brendan!"

And everything goes black.

-0-0-

"... Fine this morning. He was extubated. He gave us all a fright when he came in but he is stable now. We'll keep him in the intensive care unit for another 24 hours. If he is doing well we should be able to get him onto a respiratory ward after that."

Who's that talking?

I try to open my eyes but it feels like heavy lead weights are keeping them shut. My throat feels sore and I am impossibly tired. How long have I been asleep?

"Will he be okay, doctor?"

That's Cheryl's voice.

"He has turned a curve. If he continues to improve the way he has over the last few days, he should be right as rain with time."

I feel a tug on my hand; warm fingers curling themselves with mine and then drops of wetness tracking between our palms. Like warm liquid cement it seals us together.

At first I assume it is Chez. Then I feel a brush of lips against my knuckles. I could recognise that mouth anywhere.

It's him.

Stephen sighs. Another kiss. "And the infection, it will clear up ...?"

"Yes, over the next few days. Brendan's fractures and the bruised lung tissue underneath meant that he was under breathing and not ventilating properly. It made him susceptible to a lung infection. Unfortunately, he developed widespread sepsis and needed a little help to breathe. But he is breathing on his own now and we'll continue with the intravenous antibiotics and start chest physiotherapy when he is up to it."

"Okay." God, Stephen sounds exhausted. Sluggish. "Thank you."

"We'll be doing another round tomorrow morning, Stephen. I suggest that you get some rest and maybe come back then. You'll be no use to anyone, especially Brendan, if you are sleep deprived."

Stephen's hand tightens around mine. "If it's alright I'd prefer to stay. Just for a little longer."

His sniff tugs at my soul and my muscles; awakening them. Forcing them into action. I slowly open my eyes, squinting as the brightness of the room burns my retina. Pure white gives way to the muted grey tones of the ward coloured by sounds of beeping monitors. A tall black man with greying temples dressed in a crisp suit stands at the end of the bed with three or four staff hovering around him silently.

"Looks like Brendan would quite like you to stay, too." He says with a slight smile.

There is a choked sound to my left; my sister. "Oh, Brendan! Ye are awake!"

My right hand, the intertwined one, is suddenly empty as if the hand it was connected with was a skittish wild beast, scared away by a small disruption. I place my palm on the white sheet of my bed; a poor substitute for what it held moments ago.

Why has Stephen pulled away?

I turn to Cheryl. "My throat feels fecking sore." I croak weakly when I look at her.

"Brendan!" She admonishes quietly as her head nudges towards the team of medical staff. "Swearing!"

But she leans in to give me a delicate hug, cautious because of all the wires around me.

"That's because you have had a tube down your throat for four days to allow us to breathe for you. You'll gain strength in your voice over the next few days." The doctor says. "I'm Dr. Qwame, your intensivist. We are on our evening ward round."

I turn to my right and there is Stephen, sitting stock still as if my vision is only motion sensitive. His holds his breath and his wide-eyed stare reminds me of when Paraic is caught in the act of doing something bad.

I take my time studying him. What the hell, right? I am stuck to a bed. I have nothing else to do and he is probably not really here; this is probably a case of extreme wishful thinking.

I dissect every aspect of him that I can see; angular plains of tanned smooth skin, animated eyes, perfect cheekbones, soft pink pouty lips, the clean lines of a new haircut, long neck (nervous as it swallows), one collarbone peeking from a plain white tee-shirt. Hands clenched tightly together as if in prayer, wedged between his legs, trying to deny that they were anywhere near me.

After everything, guys, everything I have done to him, he is here.

Or is he?

I close my eyes and take a deep breath in and out. When I open them he'll be gone because I am fucking hallucinating.

_Please be real_.

I open my eyes...

He is here.

He opens his mouth to speak.

"You might feel a little disorientated for a while." The doctor explains to me as he misunderstands my silent staring.

I continue to look at Stephen. "I'm not." My voice is no more than a whisper.

Stephen goes bright red and he suddenly stands up. "I'll go. Sorry."

"Where are ye going, Ste?" Chez asks.

"Stephen." I whisper.

He stops in his tracks and looks at me with trepidation.

I lift my hand up to him; the one he held when he thought I was still asleep. He doesn't take it but stares at it as if it is alien material. It is too heavy to hold up so I drop it back into the bed.

I try to wet my mouth with my own spit to get some strength behind what I am about to say. Call it the drugs or the long sleep or the infection raging through me. Or maybe, for once, it is just me, being ... emotionally verbal.

Whatever. I don't want him to go so, for the first time ever, I say with my pitiful weakened voice,

"I want ye to stay with me, Stephen."


	34. Chapter 33

_**Three years before Cheryl's phone call..**__._

'_Now I would like to explore what makes you angry, Stephen. Take your time and throw out everything that has made or still makes your blood boil.'_

_I glance at Martin Feldman, my anger management counsellor, hesitantly. He is maybe in his fifties. Slightly chubby. Gentle brown eyes. Scruffy beard with flecks of grey. Hair that reminds me of Italian footballers; wavy and scraping the collar of his pale pink shirt but his is messier. Old corduroy jacket and mismatched dark suit trousers. Scuffed leather shoes. Would suit smoking a pipe although he isn't right now. That type. Posh but dresses like he is homeless._

'_It may unlock why you have been physically and mentally aggressive towards your girlfriend. Amy.'_

_I wince at his words._

'_Ex-girlfriend. She left me.'_

'_I stand corrected.'_

'_Okay.' I say and my mind floods with memories. 'But, like, don't laugh, yeah?'_

'_I would never laugh.'_

_I take a deep breath in and start checking my anger list on my fingers. _

'_Getting teased at school because of my dyslexia. Money being tight all the time. Being called 'chav', 'townie' or 'scally'. Being followed by security when I go shopping because they have me pegged as a thief. Which I'm not... anymore. Being skinny...' _

_I close my eyes to press out deeper truths with a quieter voice. _

'_...Living with me aunt for weeks at a time when mum had a new bloke on the go. There was always one on the go. Me ma sticking by Terry Hay even after she caught him hitting me. Her making him my new dad and turning a blind eye to the thrashing I got. Her getting shitfaced on booze all the time.'_

_I pause. _

_My hands are trembling and my heart is pounding. _

'_What else makes you angry, Ste?' _

_I let out a shaky breath then open my eyes to stare at the white ceiling of counselling room. _

'_Wanting to make something of myself and constantly being shot down. Feeling like I am going to fuck up and wreck our Leah and Lucas's lives. Knowing that Amy is better than me. Need her not to realise it...' _

_I am whispering now. There is a secret that my tongue is dying to speak out. Share. Now._

_No. _

_Yes._

'_I'm angry that I found me mate Kevin, when we were locked up, nice. Dead cool. Like a proper top bloke. I hated that he might notice but at the same time I hated that he didn't notice. I hated that he had a girlfriend who was waiting for him on the outside; big tits and mouth like a Dyson. That's what Kev always said...'_

'_Stephen.' I get a strange look from my counsellor. He stops my flow._

'_Yeah?'_

'_Tell me a bit more about your feelings for Kevin.'_

_I sit bolt upright as if an ice cube has been thrown down me back. _

_Fear and Anger. That's what is happening. Heart beating fast. Sweaty palms. Fullness in my head like my brain is about to explode. _

_My fists curl up tight, itching to connect with something. Someone._

'_Are you feeling angry right now, Ste?'_

'_Yes.' I want to punch that calm face of his._

'_Recognition. Good. Now you know what to do.'_

_Yeah. I need to control my anger to avoid a physical and/or verbal outburst. _

_I take a deep breath in and count to ten while breathing out. Slowly. The hot whirling ball of tension wrapped tightly in my chest eases a bit._

'_Good. Now define the reason for your anger.' _

'_I am angry with you, Martin. I think you think I am some poof like a fairy or summat. But I'm not. I don't like take five hours to pick an outfit or hook up in public toilets or like Kylie Minogue. I'm not like that, me.'_

'_Ste, those are your own, somewhat offensive, preconceptions. All I meant was that when you talked about your friend Kevin I got the impression that you felt a romantic and maybe even sexual attraction to him. Please correct me if I am wrong.'_

_I swallow slowly. Truth versus lie?_

_Truth._

'_You're not.' I look down. 'You're not wrong.'_

_Quiet and then, _

'_Well done, Ste. I sense that wasn't an easy thing for you to admit to.' My counsellor leans back into his seat. He looks at his watch and raises an eyebrow. 'Looks like our hour is up. You did well to control your rage today.'_

'_I haven't done anything, you know, with guys. I don't want you to... I am not...'_

'_Stephen.' He interjects. 'Next time we could confront your anger towards having feelings for men if you wish.'_

_I look at him as if my stare alone will shut him up. I should tell him to fuck off. Instead I nod before walking stiffly to the door. _

'_By the way, Stephen, before you go...'_

_I turn around to look at him. _

_He clears his throat and speaks quietly._

'_When it comes to getting ready it's ten minutes and I am out of the door on most days.'_

_I frown. What is he going on about? _

'_Stephen, I am in a stable seven year civil partnership with a wonderful husband that I have known for twenty years. And while I am a believer in 'to each his own'; I find the concept of meaningless anonymous encounters in public facilities unpleasant, potentially foolish and dangerous. Finally, regarding Miss Minogue, I personally have never understood the appeal.'_

_He lifts a challenging eyebrow._

_Pause. _

_Realisation. My words- I am not someone who takes five hours to pick an outfit or hooks up in public toilets or likes Kylie Minogue... _

_Recognition. Martin, my counsellor, is gay._

_Definition. Martin is married to a guy which means he proper lives and breathes the gay thing; love, sex, everything. But he isn't what I thought a gay guy would be like. And he is a wicked counsellor. _

_Confrontation. I might be a bit like Martin. Not with the weird Oxford professor look or the posh voice thing but the liking guys thing. Maybe I can talk to him about it..._

_I smile at him. 'Same time next week, then?'_

-0-

_**One week before Cheryl's phone call..**__._

"You're with Pete?" I say incredulously.

"No!" But Amy is a shittier liar than I am.

"Oh my God!" I say. "When did this happen?"

She pushes past me to get into the house.

"What about Lee?" I ask while closing the door and turning to face her.

She puts her overnight bag down on the sofa and looks at me.

"I am not talking to you while you are looking and smelling like that." She mumbles.

I look down at the crumpled clothes I have worn for the last day and a bit and catch a whiff of myself. Not nice.

"Fine." I wipe off tears of relief that I forgot I shed when I saw her, pick up the stinking cheese from the floor and bin it. "I'll have a shower and get dressed but then you have to tell me everything."

"It's a deal if you tell me everything, too."

I give her a smile that doesn't reach my eyes. "Deal."

Twenty minutes later I emerge from my bedroom, clean and smelling fresh but feeling stale inside.

"So where do we start?" Amy says as she hands me over a cup of hot tea. Yeah, even in summer it goes down a treat.

I take a sip as we make our way into the garden. "You and Pete?"

We take our seats on the steps that lead from the living room to the garden, facing the overgrown tiny patch of grass filled with weeds and summer flies. The sun is just beginning to set so the sky has gone that strange blue that has streaks of pink and orange in it.

"We need to do something about this." Ames says softly as she scans the messy yard, like it is the thing to say. "For the kids. Maybe stick a swing in the corner after."

"Yeah." I nod and lean forward to pluck at a few weeds absentmindedly.

We both sip our teas in silence and it is only after we are both done and we can't stall anymore that she says,

"I think I love him, Ste."

"Pete?" I say automatically.

"Yes. Actually, no. I know I love him."

I am surprised. Not because she loves him, although that is crazy news, too, but because I didn't see it coming despite being her best friend. I even hang out with both of them. Have I become so self-absorbed with my issues that I couldn't see what was right in front of my eyes?

"Since when?" I ask.

She cocks her head to one side, just like I do when I am thinking.

"I don't know." She looks down at her empty mug. "I just can't get enough of being with him."

The corners of her mouth tug up into a small smile.

I think of Brendan because that is how I feel about him; not when he turns ugly though. The brutal fists and the public rejection. Not that. That is messed up. And it pulls me in two different directions, towards and away from him.

"It's all so messed up." Amy says.

"Yeah." I agree but we are not talking about the same thing, I am sure.

"I have to end things with Lee." She nods at herself.

I look at her. "Why didn't you before?"

"I don't know. Lee is a nice guy but he... he isn't ready for anything serious. With Pete, he gets me but I am a bit scared. I am dead into him."

I smile, "That's a good thing, I think."

The silence we share is comfortable. I close my eyes and bask in the warm still air that carries the setting sun's rays better than our British weather normally does.

"What about you?" Amy whispers by my side. "I heard about what happened at _The Dog_. Everything. And then after at the hospital."

I squeeze my eyes tightly. When I open them I look straight ahead. "Yeah. No big deal."

"That's a lie. What happened when Cheryl and Pete left you at Brendan's house?"

"I told him to stop drinking and I made him an omelette."

She scrunches her face up in confusion. "You what?"

I sigh. "He didn't want me there. He called me a cab straight away and said that me saying I loved him was bullshit basically."

"Oh." After a moment that feels like a lifetime but is probably just a minute, she sighs and then nudges me; her elbow, my arm. "Hey."

I dare a glance at her.

"Fucking love." She says and then gives me the smallest wry smile ever. "You know?"

And I understand so I give her a small smile too. "Yeah."

"So what are you going to do?" She asks.

"Nothing. He doesn't want me and even if he did I can't go back to how things were. I thought I could deal with being with him in secret once but I can't. I know I deserve better." I look at the garden. Insects crawl and fly. Birds chirp. The sun sets quickly.

Life goes on. Nothing changes.

"And I know now more than ever that Brendan will never change."

After a moment, Amy's hand combs through my hair. "I'm sorry, Ste."

"Not as sorry as I am." I mumble.

She suddenly slaps her hands onto her thighs. "Okay. Tomorrow we start your single life."

"How?"

"We will start by getting you a fresh haircut."

"How is that going to make me feel better?"

"It probably won't." She smiles. "But right now your hair needs emergency intervention!"

"Oi!"

-0-0-

_**Three days before Cheryl's call...**_

When my phone rings I look at the caller id and do a double take. I glance over at Jacqui and Rhys who are carrying on in a corner of the club. _Chez Chez_ is empty since we have only just opened for the night so I head for the fire escape to answer.

"Hi." I grip the phone tightly.

"Hi."

"I didn't think you ever wanted to speak to me again."

"I am leaving Hollyoaks. Going back to London next week. There's a job my mate thinks I'd be perfect for." Noah says.

"Oh."

"That's all you've got to say?" He says quietly. "Oh?"

"Um, no." I say feeling shit and relieved at the same time. "I'm dead happy for you, you know, about the job." I clear my throat. "And, um, I am really sorry... for everything."

"You mean the fact that you were still in love with your ex while we were together."

"I-, I really liked you Noah. I wanted us to work. I tried really hard."

He snorts a laugh. "It's good to know it was that much hard work to be with me."

"No! What I mean is that I think you are brilliant. Honestly. The next man you go out with will be a lucky guy. You didn't deserve what I did to you but if you want the truth I was trying to be a normal bloke in a loving relationship with a guy that cared for me and would never hurt me in a million years. I guess I forgot that I could cause you pain."

I hear his breathing, slow and steady, but he doesn't speak for a while.

"So are you two back together."

"With Brendan? No." I say thinking about the last time we met. "I don't think we'll ever be."

Noah growls. "I don't know what you see in that closeted homophobic abusive knob."

I hate the truth behind Noah's harsh words.

"He has three cracked ribs, you know." I say and some accusation seeps into my tone.

"Good. He gets a taste of his own medicine."Noah spits out. "He deserved it."

"Like I deserved his beatings? An eye for an eye?"

"Don't compare me to him."

"I didn't think you were a vindictive guy who resolved problems with violence." I say.

"Yeah well, I guess we never really knew each other that well, did we?" He says bitterly.

"I guess not."

And with that he slams the phone down on me.

-0-0-

_**The day of Cheryl's phone call...**_

I have a bad feeling about today from the moment I get up screaming from my recurrent nightmare.

My heart beats a mile a minute and I can't catch my breath. I see Brendan so clearly, even now that I am awake. He is lying still; bruised and beaten in my arms in that dark room.

Fuck.

_It is just a dream, Ste,_ I tell myself squeezing my eyes shut.

And then unexpectedly I feel small hands touching my face.

"Wake up, daddy."

I open my eyes to see my daughter dressed in her pink pyjamas, looking down at me in concern.

"Morning, princess." I whisper as I calm down. "Why aren't you sleeping in your room?"

"You were screaming like-" Leah opens her mouth wide mimicking a silent cry.

"I'm sorry, baby."

"Are you okay?" she asks.

I give her a smile that I hope looks convincing while stretching out. "Yeah, of course. You sleep okay?"

She nods.

"Is mummy still sleeping?"

"Yes." She says and then runs her hands over my head with a serious face. Leah likes people's hair.

"I like your hair, daddy."

I'm still getting used to it. "Thank you. Do you want some breakfast?"

She nods. I pounce on her and start a tickle attack that has her in fits of laughter. She pleas for me to stop. She is so loud that I almost don't hear my phone ringing.

Leah pushes me away and leaps for it on my bedside table.

"Hewow." She says gripping it with both hands. She looks pensive, pushes the phone at me and says. "For you."

I grin at her manner as I take the mobile from her. She's a right mini secretary!

I speak into the phone. "Hello."

"Ste!"

It's Cheryl. Her voice sounds anxious, distant. There is something wrong. I am sure of it.

"What's wrong?" I ask. I whisper to my daughter. "Why don't you get mummy up, princess? I'll join you in a second."

Leah nods and scampers off in the direction of Amy's room.

"It's Brendan." Cheryl says with sobbing tears. "He's in hospital, Ste, since yesterday. He is really sick. In intensive care, sedated and ventilated. I can't... They won't tell me if he'll be okay."

I feel my vision tunnelling. "What?"

"I need you here, Ste. Pete is M.I.A and I can't go through this alone. Please."

It takes less than a second to make my decision. This is not about everything Brendan and me have been through right up to this point. Love. Hate. Grief. Ecstasy. Betrayal. Tenderness. Hurt. Protectiveness. Denial.

This is not about the past.

This is about wanting to be there for him. Now.

-0-

_**Three days after Cheryl's phone call...**_

I am sitting on a chair next to Brendan. He lies completely still on the whiter than white sheets of the hospital bed with a tube rammed down his throat and wires and tubes connected to his body in the intensive care ward. Cheryl has gone home for a shower and change of clothes but I can't bring myself to leave yet.

I touch the crucifix that dangles from my neck; the one that usually hangs off Brendan's. I took it off him when I first came to the ICU as a charm to carry with me when I can't be with him.

This man with an overgrown moustache and stubble lying before me isn't someone I recognise. Brendan is invincible, cocky and confident. A smart ass. An alpha male. Even when he fell asleep next to me, he looked vibrant. Alive.

Here he looks dead. Gone. I feel a lump build in my throat until it threatens to choke me.

Dr Qwame walks up to us and says something about maybe trying to take the tube out of Bren's throat tomorrow. I think that is what he says. I am so tired that I feel like I can barely keep my eyes open.

"Yeah. If you think that is the best thing." I hear myself say as I reach to hold Brendan's boiling hot hand.

Dr Qwame lays a hand on my shoulder.

"Ste, get some sleep. Seriously. Doctor's orders." He says quietly before walking off.

I know I should but I can't. Just one more hour and then I'll go. I blank out hearing the beeping monitors and watching the rise and fall of Bren's chest.

-0-

"Ste." I hear. "Wake up, mate."

I sit bolt upright. Did I fall asleep? I look at the indentation on the bed where my head must have settled for some shut eye.

"Sorry." I mumble and then look up in surprise at Pete who stares between me and Brendan.

"You were asleep." He says hesitantly.

I rub my eyes tiredly. "Where have you been?"

What a shit friend. He hasn't been to see Brendan once since his admission.

He wheels himself back a little. "I wanted to make sure he was okay."

"You are Brendan's mate." I say. "You should be here."

He touches his chest. He looks just as tired as I probably do. "He wouldn't want me here, believe me."

"Why?"

He sighs. "It's a long story, Ste. Let's just say that Brendan no longer sees us as friends. I have proved to him why he never opens up to anyone around him. I fucked things up."

I look at him in confusion.

"Just... look, I am sorry, okay." He says. "I hope you manage to show him that people can change and move on from the past. I didn't."

He spins around and leaves before I can begin to make sense of what he is talking about.

-0-0-

_**Four days after Cheryl's phone call...**_

"You might feel a little disorientated for a while." Dr Qwame says to Brendan.

Brendan keeps staring at me. His eyes don't waver and for a second I think he is going to lapse back into unconsciousness.

"I'm not." He whispers. When he looks at me I get it. He can't stand the fact that I am here. Thank God he doesn't know that I have slept in this chair by his side and held his hand in mine over the last few days.

I stand up. "I'll go. Sorry."

"Where are ye going, Ste?" Chez asks.

"Stephen." Brendan whispers and stops me in my tracks.

I look at him ready for a bollocking. He lifts a hand up to me. It confuses me. I don't know what he wants me to do with it. Anyway, it drops back into the bed after a moment.

He wets his lips and swallows slowly. Then he whispers words that I never thought I would here him say to me in public. In front of other people.

"I want ye to stay with me, Stephen."

-0-0-

_**Fourteen days after Cheryl's phone call...**_

Things don't go like you might think. I don't go running back into Brendan's arms the way I have before. There has been too much hurt and pain.

But for the rest of his hospital stay I visit him every day even after his move to a regular medical ward. If I am honest I think he looks forward to me coming. We don't talk about what has happened between us in the past. In fact, we don't talk about 'us'.

Instead he says things like, "Like yer hair, Stephen. Suits ye."

And I blush and give him the meal I made for him because he thinks the hospital food tastes like shit; a simple lasagne or summer salad or curry (his favourite food after his step-mother's Irish stew).

I tell him things like, "Cheryl is doing a smashing job at the club. The _Legends_ theme night was dead good. We pulled it off."

"I'm sure ye did, Stephen. Ye always do." And he gives me a strange smile that makes me feel weird and a little hot and bothered and then confused.

He speaks about his boys, "Paraic played his fucking piano at me over the phone for eighteen straight minutes. Kid is talented but, fuck me; I am no classical music fan."

"Isn't he only six?" I ask.

"Didn't I tell ye that me boy is a fecking genius?"

I say things like, "It hasn't rained in, like, fourteen days. It's like a proper summer. You'd love it out."

And he replies with, "Ye are missing out being cooped up in here with me. Ye should go out and enjoy the weather with yer loved ones. I am sure it's much more fun than sitting in a hospital side room."

And I don't know how to reply to that so I change the subject so I don't have to tell him that I want to stay with him.

Today when I come to see him before my night shift at the club I assume it is going to be like all my other visits. We speak to each other when the mood takes us. Otherwise we just sort of hang out, doze off and eat together. Enjoy the time go by quietly. We are sharing a Tupperware bowl of chilled and washed seedless grapes that I brought in. I rest my head on the bed next to him with my eyes closed listening to my I-Touch while feeling my way to the bowl for some grapes once in a while. I can hear his slow and slightly wheezy breath as he reads the paper.

Then out of the blue he says,

"They are letting me home tomorrow."

I sit up straight and look at him. "Oh yeah?"

I should be happy, shouldn't I? This means he is okay. But the truth is I hate this news because I feel like this comfort we have developed between us is about to end forever. We have created a cocoon in this side room that he has lived in for nearly two weeks. We have closed off the world and it has almost felt like we were (shock, horror!) friends. What will happen when he goes home? Will I go back to barely registering on his radar?

"Yeah." He nods. He straightens up in his bed and coughs lightly while looking everywhere but at me.

See. It has started already. He is withdrawing from me.

"That's good, right?" I say firmly. "Means that you are nearly fit enough..."

I smile but it aches my face. Where is my conviction?

He raises an eyebrow, "Fit enough for what?"

I freeze. Is he being suggestive; like flirty?

Can't be.

"Stephen." He grasps my hand surprising me.

"Yeah?" I swallow as I feel a tingle at his touch.

"I, uh-" He clears his throat. "Thank yis for the last two weeks. Ye were premium."

He clears his throat again and then pulls his hand away from mine to dig into the bowl of grapes and pick up his paper.

It takes a moment for my wide grin to appear. Brendan is munching away with his face in the day's newspaper as if he didn't just get a little emo with me.

"Yeah, uh, no problem." I say. "I can help you get back home if you like."

He raises an eyebrow over the floppy pages of the Telegraph. "You drive now?"

"Uh, well, no. But..."

"Chez is coming at eleven tomorrow to pick me up but I could do with someone with freakish strength despite having puny little arms."

He gives me a grin that is signature cheeky Brendan Brady.

I playfully slap his leg. "I do not have puny arms! I've been working out, me!"

I flex a bicep and show it to him. He looks at it and then slowly tracks his hooded eyes across my chest and up towards my neck where I feel myself going red. God! I wish he wouldn't stare at me like that.

He sighs and it's barely audible. Then he seems to snap out of whatever weird trance he got into. "Maybe it's not a good idea. Ye must be busy or..."

"I'm not." I say quickly as the blush reaches my ears.

"Oh." He smiles softly. "Good."


	35. Chapter 34

_**Two weeks and five days after Cheryl's phone call to Stephen... **_

The ride from the hospital is made in silence except for the odd attempt by my sister to kick start conversation. It's not going to happen. Stephen falls asleep almost as soon as his behind connects with the back seat. No surprises. He was working until 4 am this morning. And I am not speaking because I am too busy trying not to glance in the rear-view mirror.

Through it I can see that Stephen is softly snoring. His mouth is slightly open. I can just make out his canines. His head is fixed at an angle that will definitely result in a sore neck when he wakes up unless he shifts position. I'm not complaining though. It gives me a brilliant view of that groove above the collarbone that I used to bury my face in when the sex got intense or I felt the build up of a climax.

His tan is golden and his hair has gone a shade lighter. I guess that is the effect the sun has on him. It suits him... summer. Even his dress sense has improved with the weather. The top to toe baggy tracksuits of winter are replaced by something similar to what he is wearing now. A pale yellow tee-shirt clings to his slim but defined torso. His knee-length jean shorts ride just low enough to see the top of white and blue stripy underwear.

I swallow to quench a deep throbbing desire that washes over me. If there is any proof that I am getting better it must be the burning overpowering lust I have for him right now.

I continue my appraisal. My crucifix hangs from his neck and reflects the sun's rays. He must have taken it off me when I was sedated. When I first spotted it around his neck I remember thinking that I should get angry with him. It was my mother's. How dare he take it. She gave it to me when my father left her as a memento and I haven't taken it off since. Not even Stephen knows how much it means to me. And yet when I saw it dangling there, off his neck, when he leaned over me on the ward to say the nurse was getting me more pain meds, I was reassured. I trusted him with it.

He shifts in his sleep. I quickly avert my gaze to avoid getting caught in the act of staring at him but he just changes position again and goes back to his gentle snoring.

"How's the view?" Chez asks me.

I clock her small knowing smile. Fuck. I've been busted.

"What view?" I mumble before determinedly looking out of my window at the passing traffic.

"It's sweet that he came today." She keeps her voice low. "Don't you think?"

I keep my eyes on the road. "He had to come, sis. It's called pity. His ex nearly killed me and now he feels bad."

"No Brendan. Stop being an eejit. If Ste is here it is because he wants to be." She says. "Besides, if ye think all this is a pity act why don't ye tell him where to go?"

I stay quiet then grunt. Bottom line, I want him here. I'm not telling my sister that.

"So what are ye now? Friends?"

I rub my eyes tiredly. "Don't know."

I look through the rear-view mirror again. Now he has one hand tucked under his chin and through his movement he has managed to bunch up his tee-shirt so that a sliver of taut bronzed abs peeks through.

"What about Peter? You were like birds of a feather."

"Oh you know how it is, sis." I say.

"No, I don't. Did something happen between you?"

"Let's just say that the past is best kept in the past."

As I look at Stephen, I feel a pull of regret that maybe the same should apply to him.

-0-

When we get home Cheryl nudges Stephen to wake him up. He drowsily apologises for falling asleep and then helps her take my things out of her car boot.

"Home sweet home." I say drily as I carefully get out of the car and walk behind them into the house. I am hurting far less than I was weeks ago but movement still aggravates the pain.

Stephen looks at me with concern but he knows better than to comment on it. Instead he shoulders my bags; baggage I cannot carry by myself.

"Where shall I put your bags?" He asks when we stop in the hallway.

I point at one of the reception rooms but Cheryl says,

"Ye couldn't be a puppet and put them in Brendan's room?"

"Brendan's...?" He looks at me cautiously. "Um... I..."

He glances at the staircase, then the bags, then Cheryl and me like he is faced with a monster in thick inescapable woods.

"It's okay." I say quickly. "Leave them down here. It's no biggie."

No biggie? Did I just say that? I swear the sedatives they gave me have done a number on me.

"No. It's fine. It will only take a sec, right?" Stephen says nervously. "Because then I have to get some sleep... at home, of course, not here... before my shift at the club."

"Of course." Cheryl says with a smile.

Stephen makes his way to the staircase then turns to my sister. "Chez, will you show me which room it is?"

She points in the direction of the kitchen. "I would love to but I have to make myself a quick lunch before heading back to the club. We have a delivery in an hour."

She walks through the double doors that lead to the kitchen and shuts them behind her firmly.

Stephen and I look at each other.

"Come on." I say casually, even though I feel anything but, and make my way up the stairs slowly.

He follows behind me hesitantly. "Okay."

When we get to the landing, his voice is awestruck when he says, "Wow, Brendan."

I whip round to soak his expression in as he peeks his head into rooms we pass on the dual level corridor. His face melts into a smile when he looks into Paraic's room with its dinosaur theme.

"Do you like it?" I ask when he pans up to take in the cornices.

Why am I being a girl about this? I am holding my breath for his opinion like it is relevant somehow.

He nods and looks me straight in the eye. "I love it, Brendan."

I turn away from him quickly to hide my smile and briskly walk to the last room on the landing.

I freeze just outside of it. Shit. I cannot not show Stephen the inside.

"You can put my stuff here. Thank yis." I say pointing at the bit of floor outside the door.

He frowns at me like what I am saying is strange which it is, I suppose.

"It's fine really." He says with a smile. "It's just two more steps. I think I can manage."

He walks round me and flings open the door to my bedroom.

I hold my breath as I wait for his reaction. I don't wait long. He drops the bags to the floor with a heavy thud. He could catch flies his mouth is that open with shock. He slowly walks in and I follow him with heavy legs.

He goes up to the fifty-inch flat screen television mounted on the far wall. His fingers run lightly over its lower edge. Then he turns to approach the king-sized bed and slowly ghosts his hands over the rich dark wood frame.

When our eyes connect, his are confused.

"This is my bed." He whispers.

"Strictly speaking it is my bed." I say just as quietly. "If ye recall, young Stephen, ye didn't want it."

He sits down on it.

"Of course I wanted it, Bren." He looks around the room to clock the shoe rack (Fuck. I never got round to remove his shoes. I must look like an obsessed nutcase). "But at the time it felt like a pay off. Like for my silence or summat."

Really? That is what he thought.

"That's not why I did it." I say honestly. "I did it for ye."

I don't think he realises that he is running his hands over the lightweight super soft Egyptian cotton sheets on the bed over and over again; a gentle caress. A gentle caress that reminds me of what else he was able to do with his hands... to me. I ball my hands into fists to resist the itch of doing something to him that he does not want me to do and that I should not try to do for lots of reasons.

Top of the list of reasons? I would get the most excruciating pain from my broken fucking ribs if I tried.

Second reason? Stephen would probably punch me right back into a hospital bed if I dared to try it on.

"I forgot how soft the sheets were." He says looking down at them.

"They are." I squeak.

"Yeah." He nods then stares up at me. So many expressions go through his face that I can't read him. "My whole bedroom is here. I mean, your bedroom that you gave me."

I think fast. "Little known fact, Stephen, I'm an environmentalist. I'm sure you'll agree that this is better than dumping near new furniture into a skip, what."

"Sure." He says. Does he sound disappointed by my explanation (which, by the way, is a bare faced lie)? "That makes sense."

I suddenly feel like a timeout so I walk into the en suite bathroom to create some distance.

I stare at myself in the mirror. I feel completely caught out; like Stephen has found out what a pathetic mess I have been since he left me and went with Noah.

I run the cold tap and splash my face with some water.

"Do you want me to help you unpack?" He asks from the bedroom.

"No." I say quickly. I look at my reflection as water drips from my face. "I am going to get some sleep in a second. Didn't you say you needed to get going?"

"Um, yeah, I guess."

"'Cos I'm set here." I say. "You don't need to hang about if ye have somewhere to be."

"Do you want me to go?"

I stare at the mirror and mouth, _no. _But I say, "Yeah. I'm kind of tired now."

"Do you, um, do you mind if I come to see you?" He says and then quickly adds after a moment's pause, "As a friend? Once in a while."

"No. Even more often than that." I say.

This feels like a negotiation of terms and conditions. Is that what we are? Friends. It doesn't feel like friendship what with me wanting to fuck him senseless but then what do I know about being friends.

Stephen stays quiet in the bedroom, I hear some shuffling so I grab a hand towel, dry my face and walk back into the bedroom.

He is standing stock still in the middle of the room.

He looks a little stunned; a bit like how someone looks when they have just been told some truth they would have never believed in a million years.

"What?" I ask.

He silently walks up to me and takes my hand. Then he gets onto the tips of his toes and presses his lips to mine lightly.

It feels strangely platonic.

"Nothing." He says as he touches his lower lip. "I should get going."

"What?" I manage to say in confusion but he is gone from my room in a heartbeat.

I listen out for him as he runs down the stairs and says bye to Cheryl urgently. They exchange words that are too muffled and quiet for me to hear.

Eventually, she shouts,

"Bren! Ste and me are heading off! I've made ye a sandwich for lunch. It's in the kitchen. Call me if ye need otherwise I'll see ye later!"

I hear the main door shut behind them leaving me home alone.

Now I have all the time in the world to be confused by Stephen's behaviour. I look around as if my bedroom might give clues to why he kissed me and then left so quickly.

Something on the bedside table catches my eye. A small rectangular paper with writing on it that is normally almost completely hidden under a sculpture of the Buddha. It is now in full view.

I know why Stephen acted strange.

It is the picture of happy memories as captured by Stephen during our visit to Rome. The message, on the back has acted as a palate cleanser after those times where I have seen Stephen with Noah looking all loved up around the village.

_This is the man I love,_

_xxx Stephen_

I pick up the photograph and look at Stephen's happy face laying a big kiss on my cheek while I stare straight to camera with the expression of a man that has arrived. Contented. Satisfied.

That was not the face of the man that stared back at me in the mirror.

-0-0-

_**Four weeks after Cheryl's phone call to Stephen...**_

"Brendan! You have mail!" Chez screams. I hear her run up the stairs and through the corridor. She barrels into my bedroom without knocking.

"Oi!" I say in annoyance. "I could have had company!"

She laughs at that. "As if! Ye are getting less action than cloistered monks."

"Pot. Kettle. Black." I say.

So what if I am taking a hiatus from carnal relations. So what if that hiatus started after the last time Stephen and me had sex. I could go out and find someone to help warm my bed sheets in a heartbeat if I wanted.

"I'm still healing." I explain.

"Excuses." Chez says.

"Who sends postal letters now-a-days anyway?" I mutter as I snatch the envelope from her hands.

"Someone in Ireland by the looks of it." She says. "I'll be downstairs if ye need anything."

"Hey, sis!" I call out to her retreating form.

"Yep."

"You're right. I'm on the mend." I say. "So I was thinking that, much as I appreciate it, I don't need a babysitter anymore. So if ye wanted to move back to the flat, that's fine."

"Are ye kicking me out?"

"No."

"Because it sounds like you are."

"I'm not."

She develops a sly grin. "Hang on! Is yer little sister cramping yer style, big bro? Am I holding ye back from getting yer groove back?"

I scrunch my face at her. "Fuck off. No. And, by the way, the nineties called. It wants its idiom back."

"'Get yer groove back' is one hundred percent post millennium, Brendan. Anyway, message received. I'll be out of yer way by tonight." She winks at me and then walks off.

I sigh as I settle back into the bed.

How are my ribs ye ask? Actually, I wasn't lying to Chez. They are fine; nothing more than a dull ache and the very occasional sharp twinge with vigorous movement. Thanks for asking.

I open my mail and go straight to the end of the letter.

_Paddy_

Okay. I wasn't expecting a letter from him. What has he got to say for himself after everything he did?

I start reading from the beginning.

_Brendan,_

_I am writing because I heard that you flew too close to the sun and nearly passed on. It made me realise that life is too short. While I can't understand the choices you have made, I still remember how things were. Brothers from womb to tomb. Remember?_

_I am writing to warn you. _

_Beware Warren Fox__. _

_I came to Hollyoaks after Peter wanted to get back at you for what you did to him. But he also, in a screwed up way, wanted to help you. He said that you had 'serious enemies' that would use what you were doing with that boy Stephen to their advantage if you insisted on keeping it a secret. _

_Anyway, the point is, Pete was right. Twenty-four hours after getting to Hollyoaks Warren approached me. He had done his research. He knew about Peter's accident, our previous brushes with the law. He told me what happened with ye and DH and told me that if I didn't reveal the situation to your boy, my mother, brother and Jo-jo would be hurt. When I asked him why he was doing this he said it was because he wanted to 'crush you like a bug.' _

_Don't trust that man. _

_Paddy_

_P.S. Do you remember Brianna; the girl Peter was with back in the day? We are getting married. As I said, I have realised that life is too short. So, you see, we are nothing alike, you and me._

I put the letter down and rub my chin. No, we are very alike, Paddy; marrying to suppress emotions that can't be controlled and being in denial. We are practically twins.

But there is something else.

Peter was telling me the truth all along.

-0-0-

_**Five weeks after Cheryl's phone call to Stephen...**_

I wake up, shower, shave, slowly get dressed and take one look in my bathroom mirror before making my way down the stairs.

I make some filter coffee and drink a mug of it quickly and then call a taxi.

When it arrives I say, "Hollyoaks High please."

-0-

I knock twice and then walk into Peter's office.

"Brendan!" He says as if he has just seen a supernatural creature.

I calmly close the door behind me and walk up to his desk.

"How are ye feeling?" He asks.

"I'm fighting fit now, so to speak." I reply as I perch into the seat opposite him.

"Ye scared the shit out of me when ye collapsed last month. I thought ye were dying."

"Ye came to see me once in hospital."

He looks down at his desk despondently. "I knew ye wouldn't want me there."

"That's not what I meant."

He says, "I guess I owe ye an apology."

"No ye don't."

He looks up.

"Ye don't, Peter. I can't pretend I remember everything ye told me the last time I was here. I wasn't all there what with being near dead and what not. But what I do remember ye saying was one hundred percent on the money."

"Are ye sure ye are alright?" He asks.

I reveal a small smile. "Fuck off, Pete. 'Course I'm alright."

"Brendan, I called ye a spineless coward. I said ye deserved to get a taste of yer own medicine. I said that if it wasn't for being in the closet, most of the shit in yer life and the lives of those around ye wouldn't have happened. I-"

I lift up a hand. "I get it. Thanks... for rubbing it in."

He nods. "Is that what made ye come here today?"

"Yes." I clear my throat. "These last few weeks I have had a chance to think."

Pete looks at me as if any moment he expects a hidden camera to come out of nowhere and an obnoxious TV host to say, 'Ha! Kidding! You are on candid camera! Actually Brendan _has_ come to fuck you up!'

"I have never been good at this sort of thing so I just want to say that..." I clear my throat "...I don't resent what ye did, Peter. Years ago ye told me to come out and I ignored ye. I am sorry that I fucked up yer life in the process."

I look at him waiting for a reply. It will probably be 'fuck off'.

He shakes his head. "Wow!" He says. "I'm not going to lie, Bren, that sounded pretty ..."

He stops midsentence.

"Ye were going to say 'gay', weren't ye?" I say.

"No. Yes." He looks mortified. "It's the fucking kids! They always say shit like that. Honestly."

"Ye should be setting an example." I say with a smile that I hope makes him know I am teasing him. "Head teacher."

"Says the man that uses words like poof, shirt-lifter and queen." He grins.

I become serious again. It's true that I have used those words but they don't originate with me. They come from people Pete and I grew up with. Hearing them clams me up.

Herein lies the problem, folks.

I am not comfortable talking about the gay thing or being the gay thing in public. I am not. Even now that most of the village is in the know. I still cringe when people who are well intentioned like Chez and Pete talk about it. When I have tried to change for Stephen (you know I have, I just haven't been successful); gritted my teeth, held my breath and mentally cleared my head, it has been a terrifying, prickly experience that I invariable ran away from.

Every time I try to brave it and stick my neck out I regress to the adolescent boy I was. I become the confused teen flooded with hormones that pulled me forcefully to my attraction for my best friend and made me linger on the male protagonists of TV programmes and films.

All the while my estranged older brother would say things like,

'Bren, apparently Tim Cruz is a fairy! Fucking makes me want to puke!'

My father would inject,

'Fecking pansies are everywhere now! Our army would be stronger without all those limp wrists, ye mark my words, son.'

And,

'It's a disgrace, Brendan. John, from down the road has just found out that his son takes it up the arse. He dared bring the fella he says he is living with home to meet the parents? Prances around like it's normal. He should be shot.'

Pete says. "Bren?"

I search his eyes and he looks blurred. I have tears in my eyes. I blink to clear my vision. A drop tracks down my cheek.

"Are ye in pain?" He asks in concern.

"No." Yes. But not physical pain. "How did ye get over the stares and the jeers, Pete?"

"Huh?"

"When did ye stop caring that people looked at ye differently?"

"Oh!" He looks down at his wheelchair and then up at me. "When I realised that the only person going home with my dead legs was me."

I don't get his meaning.

"Every time a passerby looked at me I thought, they must think I am thick or deaf or on incapacity benefit or an inconvenience to society or impotent or fully nursed or born this way or my fault because of drunk driving or a bungee jumping accident. I could hear their thoughts as loudly as I hear my voice now. So I locked myself at home and refused to go out. I hated knowing what they might think of me, ye know?"

I nod. It's all ringing bells.

"But that was stupid, Bren. I was the one with all those thoughts and hang ups. I had locked myself in. I am not saying that people don't think those things when they see me but does it affect me and my life? No. My loved ones and I know what is true and false about my life and when people get to know me they get to learn the truth too. That is all that matters. And about the odd person that shouts out 'spastic', I actually feel sorry for them; the ignorant bastards."

"Ye make it seem easy. Like water off a duck's back."

He gives me a wry laugh. "Oh no. What needs to be done is _simple _but doing it is not _easy_. Ye are not going to like this but I can tell ye how I got over it."

"I'll hear it." I say sceptically. "But then I have a favour to ask."

"Let's hear the favour first." He says with an apprehensive smile.

"Fine." My eyes are glinting as I feel the pump of hot adrenalin-fuelled blood through my veins. "I am asking ye because, I know that for all yer new straight-laced persona, ye are still as shrewd as they come. I know that ye were the one to get Warren incarcerated after I got released."

He smiles broadly. "What can I say? The man is a psychopath. Shame the crime didn't stick."

I nod. "This is the favour. I need ye to lose yer sensible hat and help me bring down the Fantastic Mr. Fox."


	36. Chapter 35

**It is a great relief to be writing Poker Night again! As some of you know from PMing me, I stumbled upon a bad case of writer's block. As the story came to an end I struggled to know where to go with it. Anyway, now I think I have cracked it. I hope you like it.**

**xx CHIPS**

**...**

_Brendan is a friend. Brendan is a friend. Brendan is a friend. Brendan is a friend. And him calling me to meet up is no big deal so stop being stupid_.

I say this to myself over and over again. So why am I trying on my third outfit after having a shower and still looking at myself in the mirror in disappointment? Maybe it isn't the clothes. Maybe it's my hair. I step up closer to my reflection and comb my fingers through it.

"What are you doing?" Amy sing-songs as she comes into my room.

"Nothing." I say as I flatten my hair and smooth my clothes. I turn to face her. "Um. So I am going out for a bit, yeah."

"Yeah?" She sniffs me and raises her eyebrows. "You smell nice."

"Thanks."

She takes in what I'm wearing. "You going somewhere nice?"

"Not really." I say cagily.

She goes all suspicious. "Those are your pulling clothes."

"Ames!" I roll my eyes at her. Ever since my break up with Noah she seems dead keen on my love life. Or maybe it is just because she is loved up with Pete. I know I can't tell her that I am going to see Brendan. Even though I am just his friend now I know that Amy would give me a right earful about hanging out with him.

She would probably put that face on that she gives the kids when they have been playing up and say something like, 'Ste! Brendan doesn't do friendship. Can't you see that this is just a slippery slope? Before you know it you will be right where you started; in his bed, bruised and battered.'

I look down at my clothes. Maybe I am a little too dressed up. I should change.

I start taking my shirt off and take advantage of it covering my face as it goes over my head to lie to her,

"It's my day off so I thought I'd hang out with Doug."

She grips my arms and lowers the shirt back onto me. Her face looks surprised. "Are you still talking to Noah's mates after what happened?"

I swallow. _No. I'm not. They probably hate me. I think they'd punch me if I tried_.

"Yeah." I say and nod. "They're cool."

"Cool." She smiles at me. "I am glad that you are hanging out with them. It's good for you."

"Yeah." I say again, feeling guilty about being dishonest with her. I kiss her cheek. "I think I'm going to change."

She pats my chest and gives me a small smile. "Don't. It's nice."

"Really?"

She nods. "Really."

-0-0-

I walk to the corner of my cul-de-sac where Brendan said he would pick me up; the place where he picked me up when we went to Rome. God, it feels like ages ago, that.

He hasn't exactly said what we are going to do but I am full of anticipation as I spot his black car already parked on the corner. My stomach flip flops.

_Stay cool._

His window lowers as I approach and he stares at me as I round the car and get into the passenger seat.

"Hiya." I say as I put on my seat belt. "Am I late?"

I know I'm not . He is early. And he is _really_ looking at me. Like _really_. Enough for me to think that I have something stuck in my teeth or something.

"No." He says after a moment. "No. You are right on time."

He starts the car and looks ahead. "You're looking good, Stephen."

My heart speeds up. What a stupid reaction to an innocent comment.

"Bet you say that to all the boys." I say lightly.

I am surprised when he smiles at that. "Only when it's true."

I swallow against an urge to flirt more because this is flirting, isn't it, what we are doing right now?

I say, "So what's the plan?"

He pulls away from the curb and gives me a small grin. "Now that would be telling."

-0-0-

We barely talk as we hit the road. It isn't strained or anything but it builds the tension and anticipation.

I am surprised when he parks up in the woods located a few miles out of the village. What is the idea here? Picnic? Walk? Mountain biking? Bird watching?

Somehow none of these things seem like things Bren would be into.

He gets out of the car and opens the boot before closing it again and walking round to my side.

He knocks on my window and says,

"Come on," and indicates for me to get out.

When I do I stare at what he has in his hands.

"What are those for?" I say stupidly as I watch him put the L plates on the front and back of the car.

"The roads are quieter here." He straightens up and lifts an eyebrow at me. "Get in."

He points at the driver's seat before he sits in mine and closes the door. I stare at him through the open window standing my ground at the side of the road.

I shake my head. "Um. No."

His car is a high-spec, polished, unblemished Mercedes. There is no way I am going to practice with it.

"Stephen, it takes you three bus journeys to get to my place from yours. And I've heard that the night service is shit on its better days and has rapists and murderers on it, so..."

He dangles his keys in front of me.

"Come on, Stephen." He stares at me. "You've got your provisional licence, don't you?"

I nod but then nudge my head towards the car. "I am going to crash it, Brendan, honestly."

"You won't."

"You don't know that. I couldn't afford to get it fixed." I cross my arms in front of me.

His hand stretches out to grip my elbow. The keys dig a little into my flesh; not painfully but enough to notice. His warmth on my skin is familiar. It makes me tense up then shudder.

He pulls away suddenly. He has misunderstood. He thinks I don't like his touch. He couldn't be more wrong. I love it. But maybe it is better for him to think I find it repulsive. It makes this whole 'friend' thing easier.

"I'm fully comp." He says after a while as a tick goes off in his cheek.

His eyes lock with mine. Then they drop to my lips. They stay there when he continues to speak low; like a rumble in his chest. "Buses are a bitch, Stephen."

I hesitate.

Me and cars. It is not a good thing. I cause harm with them. Sixteen year old me does anyway...

-0-

"I bet you, you can't do it." Amy teases and lightly shoves me in the chest as we walk out of the school gates at the end of the day.

Michaela gives her evils and says, "If Ste isn't up for it let it go."

"I'm up for it!" I say and give them a sly smile. I can feel the adrenaline pumping already. I'm buzzing from the rush so I lie, "I can drive. I've done it, like, at least five times already, so-"

"But we're in uniform. What if the police catch us or summat?" Michaela protests.

We walk through a supermarket car park and I go, "Just stay on the lookout, yeah?"

I start trying the handles of the cars as we walk along. The sixth car along is open so I think to myself that the owner is stupid and that I am doing them a favour. I am teaching them a life lesson about how they shouldn't be so trusting or how they should be more careful in the future otherwise bad shit will happens like their car getting nicked.

I climb into the driver's seat and jump-start it easily. Old cars. You've got to love them.

"Get in." I say to the girls. They giggle and Amy beats Mickey to the front passenger seat next to me.

They both fancy me. They have made it really obvious with their hair flicking and laughing at everything I say even the stuff that isn't funny. And I think it is pretty cool to have two girls after me. Maybe I can cop a feel of one of their breasts or something later if I play my cards right. Yeah. That's the plan. Go on a joyride. Ditch the less keen girl. Cop off with the more keen girl. Ditch the car.

But things don't go according to plan.

I spot Fletcher and Josh as we drive out of the supermarket. Both are in Amy's class, a year below me and Michaela.

Fletch winds me up and gets under my skin even without trying. He has a girlfriend who he is always snogging 24/7. Honestly, it is gross and unnecessary how much they cop off in public. Who needs to see that?

Also, he irritates me no end with his longish blond hair that flops into his eyes so that he has to push it off all the time. And I hate that he is a goody-two-shoes who always stares at me, disapproving, with his hazel eyes. They have flecks of green in them I'm pretty sure. He never gives me the time of day; thinks I am bad news. So really I should just ignore him. Instead I shout to get his attention as we slow the car down next to them.

I bully him into coming along for the ride, saying that he is a right square if he doesn't. Eventually both him and Josh jump in.

We head off, destination motorway, to get some speed going. I can feel Fletch's judgmental eyes in the back of my head. I try not to keep looking back at him through the mirror. What an asshole. When Mickey finds some lager under the front seats, she and I start drinking. I try to get Fletch to have some but he says,

"You're not meant to drink and drive, Ste."

He angrily turns his head away to stare out of the car.

I mock his voice and then laugh but inside I am devastated. He doesn't like me. He can't stand me.

He checks his seat belt. We all have them on except for Amy. When Mickey asked her to put it on Amy said, 'Seat belts are for wusses."

I think she was trying to impress me.

I suck on the first bit of my third can of booze and then turn around to look at Fletch again. I make a smacking sound with my mouth and sigh like I am dead satisfied with my drink. Then I throw the nearly full can at him. It spills all over him.

I thought that would make me feel better by making him know that I don't care if he likes me or not. But for some reason I feel worse. I feel like helping him clean up the mess I have caused on his uniform.

At that moment Amy and Josh scream.

Michaela shouts, "Ste! Look out!"

Everything happens in a blur after that.

I turn back round to clock the road. I spot an animal in front of us that I try to swerve around. I avoid it but end up veering off road. I panic as the rough terrain of the pebbles makes us jostle in our seats. I grab the steering wheel with both hands and slam my foot onto the brake pedal but I am too late. We are headed for a tree and before we know it metal hits solid wood.

Airbags go off. Steam flies out of the bonnet. The smell of petrol reaches my nostrils. My hand, left knee and back ache. My tongue feels sore like I must have bit it.

The car is hissing and whining, Michaela is crying, Josh is breathing very fast while he scrambles to get out of his seat.

He keeps shouting, "Amy!" over and over again.

I look across at Amy numbly. She is lying slumped and not moving. This all feels unreal. I slowly process what has happened. We have just had an accident.

My first reaction is to look behind me. It is like a reflex just to make sure he is okay.

Fletcher.

He stares back at me; wide-eyed with fear. He is bleeding from a cut on his forehead.

"Your head." I say quietly.

He snaps out of his shock then and leans forward as his face becomes angry. He shoves me forcefully on my shoulder. "You prick! You could have got us killed! You are a fucking idiot, Ste!"

I am crushed by his words. He is right. I am an idiot and a part of me, a vague barely formed part, knows that this was about showing off to him or something.

I watch numbly as him, Michaela and Josh drag Amy out of the car. She isn't moving at all but I can see her breathing. All Michaela keeps saying over and over again is,

"She's pregnant."

That is enough for me to see the situation for what it is.

Fucked up.

I drove without a licence. I stole a car. I drank alcohol underage. I drank while driving. I damaged property. I caused bodily harm.

I take a step back thinking that I need to get away. Fletch spots me backing up.

He whispers angrily with Amy in his arms,

"Don't you dare."

But he is too late. I run away as fast as my legs will take me.

-0-

I look at Brendan. It has been ages since I thought of that incidence. I have avoided it. It feels like I was a different person then; immature dangerous and reckless. I also know that I had a huge crush on Fletcher. It is strange how I didn't recognise it for what it was at the time.

"I can't drive ever, Brendan." I say. "Sorry."

"Why?" He says as he gets out of his car again and leans on its side to face me.

"Because," I close my eyes for a second. Do I tell him? "Last time I drove was nearly five years ago and I got into an accident; a bad one."

He doesn't react straight away. "You were sixteen?"

He has done the maths. I wasn't even entitled to a provisional licence.

"Yeah and I was drinking alcohol and, uh, it wasn't mine. The car, I mean."

He keeps a poker face.

"Amy was in there with me. She was pregnant. Early. I didn't know at the time." I feel myself shaking. "Uh. I-" I feel a tear form and rub it away. "She got hurt really bad."

I whisper this. Fuck. I have never said this to anyone. I mean, opened up about it. Brendan keeps looking at me steadily.

He hasn't run away yet even though I am showing him what a monster I was.

"She could have lost her. Leah. Because of me." I hear the tremble in my voice.

I close my eyes because I am embarrassed that I have become so emotional around him. What do I expect now, exactly? Brendan is no Agony Uncle. He is no Amy. He doesn't know how to comfort and listen.

I open my eyes again and through the blur of tears I whisper, "Sorry."

I point at my face feeling like a little baby who hasn't got any control over its feelings. "Ignore me. Can you take me home now, please?"

I gently push him aside so I can get back into the passenger seat but he closes his hand over mine as I try to open the door. He intertwines our fingers and lifts my hand away from the car before gently turning me round to face him.

I don't pull away from him so he probably thinks it is okay to take a step up to me until I feel his chest against mine when I take a breath in. He has trapped me between the his car and his body.

I look up at him wondering what he wants.

"You were okay though, yeah?" He asks.

I frown.

"After." He clarifies.

Does he mean after the accident?

I nod slowly. "Yeah. I were fine."

His arms slowly wind themselves around me, tightening at my waist as he draws me into him. I try not to be too aware of his body against mine, thinner since his illness but still firm and toned. His dick through his jeans and against my belly button, is un-aroused but full of potential.

If this was happening in our past, I would know what happens next. Either me or him would go in for the kiss and one thing would lead to another...

Shit. I shouldn't be thinking like this. We are friends now. Right? I think this is him comforting me. And also friends can't kiss, can they? Even though that is exactly what I want him to do. Kiss me.

His hands splay over my back. I feel the steady thud of his heart against me. My head tucks into the grove of his neck and without thinking I breathe him in; aftershave, leather, clean sweat, minty gum. Masculine. God, I missed this. I ball my hands into fists as I wrap my hands around him and rub my head lightly against the roughness of his stubble.

That is how we stay for a while and I feel calmer. I could stay like this forever.

After a while, I come to the reality of where we are; on the side of a road where anybody could see us. Maybe I should push him away before he thinks the same. I couldn't take him rejecting me first.

I press my hands against his chest and push him away. Then I get into the car without a further word.

He stands outside for a while not moving before slowly walking back round to the driver's side and getting in.

He doesn't start the car; just stares straight ahead.

"Stephen." He says quietly. "What makes you think that if you drive you are going to mess up again?"

I frown. Why doesn't he just drive me home and forget this whole incident? I thought that is what he was good at. Glossing over bad shit and acting like it didn't happen.

" 'Mess up' makes it sound like I got a question wrong in a school exam." I scoff staring ahead too. "There was five of us in the car, Brendan. Josh couldn't get into a car for two years after what happened without having panic attacks. Michaela became a right bitch. Didn't trust anyone. Fletch got charged for the whole thing. Taking without consent and driving without a licence. After coming out of Young Offenders he was never the same. He became a drug addict. He was a nice lad before I fucked up his life. And Amy-"

"What makes you think that if you drive you are going to mess up again?" Brendan repeats even slower than the first time.

He smoothes his moustache down. "What makes you think that you won't hit Amy again? What makes you think you won't deal again, Stephen?"

"I-" I don't know... what to say. I just kind of know.

"You are Amy's best friend now. You are, uh, a top lad. Hard working. Above the law. Mostly. People... they care for you. Respect you. Uh, they... love you, Stephen. And that is because of who you are not who you once were." He drawls slowly, as if he is speaking to himself. "The world would be a shit place if people couldn't change, I say. There would be no hope for the wicked seeking redemption."

He turns to look at me and I am shocked at how sincere he looks. It is like a mask has been taken off and all I see is pure uncovered Brendan Brady.

Is he trying to say that he thinks people can change? Some people maybe but not him. He hasn't so far...

"You are on an early shift tomorrow, aren't you?" He says.

I nod.

"Good. Bring your provisional licence."

"Okay." I reply before thinking.

I hold my breath when his hand comes up to cup my face. He looks at me point blank and then his eyes follow the path of his fingers as they graze down from my temple to my cheekbone, jaw, neck and collarbone. He pauses them there and I feel like hyperventilating when he then runs the tips of his fingers along its hard length towards the shoulder disturbing the collar of my shirt.

Then he lifts them off me.

"Huh." He sounds and I shudder as my heart beats so frantically that I can't believe that he can't hear it.

The effect he has on me is ridiculous. I am going to need an ice bath when I get in. Definitely.

_He is a friend. He is a friend. He is a friend. He is a friend._

What was that touch for? I button up the shirt button that exposed me.

_He is a friend_.

"Don't worry. I won't pounce on you, Stephen." He sounds tired.

"I didn't-"

"I'll take you home and we'll try again tomorrow."


	37. Chapter 36

I get up, eat, shower, get dressed and walk into the living room in the midmorning. I put some music on and hum to it while checking my mail. It is still taking me some time to get used to the large living space of the house in Chester town since moving out of the apartment in Hollyoaks village but it is times like this when I don't regret the move.

I can really blare out songs I like even guilty pleasures like this one.

Fucking tune.

I turn up the volume on the CD player then start throwing out smooth moves while looking at myself in the mirror and adjusting the collar of my shirt.

"... Oh-ohoh-oh. Oh. Oh-oh-ohoh-Oh-Oh. I'll get him hot, show him what I got. Can't read my, can't read my, no you can't read my poker face..." I sing out loud. "She has got to love nobody. Can't read my, can't read my, no you can't read my poker face. She has got to love nobody. P-p-p-poker face, p-p-poker face..."

I spin on the spot then point and wink at my reflection in the mirror.

I shouldn't be in a positive mood with all the shit that has been going on recently. Paddy coming into town and fucking my life up. Stephen leaving me and shacking up with Noah. Warren orchestrating my arrest. Stephen outing me. Our relationship being exposed like some sordid tabloid story. Noah punching me into an intensive care bed. Falling out with Peter. Trying to make amends with Stephen and failing. Him refusing my offer of a driving lesson in the woods just outside Hollyoaks a few weeks ago.

Anyway, since then, he has mellowed and I have given him lessons nearly every day.

Driving lessons, you perverts.

And he is good.

Truth be told, he doesn't really need any more practice but it is the only excuse I have to see him alone now-a-days. For a solid hour he is trapped and locked near me with nowhere to go. I have to trust him and he has to listen to me. He actually smiles at me; relaxed and spouting out a load of pointless bullshit that reminds me of how we once were. And I get to watch him as he concentrates on the road; his slim yet muscular thighs flexing as he depresses the pedals and his left hand firmly and confidently grasping the gear shaft.

All is good while we are in my car but his relaxation only lasts as long as the lesson. Once we are done he becomes politely distant again.

He calls it friendship.

I call it a living hell.

With the list of crap that has happened to me over the last few months would you blame me if I locked myself in my bedroom, started collecting bottles of my piss and wearing underwear on my head?

It's a good thing that isn't how I react to knock backs.

I have become a man with two missions and today I intend to set both of them into gear.

1) Get even with Warren.

2) Get back with Stephen.

Simple?

Not really but failure is not an option.

First things first. I make my way to the club and Cheryl accosts me straight away. Not who I was looking for but she ain't a bad start.

"There you are, Bren." She says without a hello. "I need to talk to you. Do you have a minute?"

"Is Stephen here?" I look around the room. "Or Warren?"

"No." She looks at me curiously. "Stephen's on another shift, remember? He asked me swap him out of working with you a while back because of you being a twat to him."

She scowls at me and I wink at her cheekily. I had almost forgotten about that. I have to update my sister that now that me and him are officially 'friends' the rota tweaking is unnecessary.

"And who knows where Warren has disappeared off to. He comes when he pleases. Why?"

"No reason."

I follow her into the office.

"You guys are doing okay now, aren't ye?" She asks as she walks to the seat behind the desk.

I frown. "Warren and I?"

"You and Ste." She clarifies as she takes a seat. "You're friendly."

There's that word again. Friends.

Just friends.

"Car's still in one piece if that's what ye mean. We'll be fine if it stays that way."

I stay standing and dig my hands into my pockets.

"I'm not talking about the driving lessons. I'm talking about ye and him, ye know..." She lifts and lowers her eyebrows at me. "... Making a go of things."

"Whatever do ye mean, sis?" I play dumb.

"Stop playing dumb." She says with a small smile. "Now that everyone knows you are gay and Ste isn't dating anyone and you aren't in jail..." she gives me a wink "... what's holding you back?"

I give her a stare hoping that it will shut her up. "I thought you wanted to have a word about something else."

"In a minute." She says and leans on the desk on her elbows, hands clasped together. "I think he has been looking really good recently. Cute. Don't you?"

There is a twinkle in her eye.

I spin on my heel ready to walk out.

"Okay. Fine!" She says. I turn around to face her again. "You're a spoil sport, Bren. I thought I was witnessing a beautiful fairytale ending. Ye and Ste, happy ever after!"

She smiles ironically.

"Sorry I couldn't indulge yer insatiable appetite for soppy rom-coms, Chez."

"Maybe I need to live in the real world." She shrugs and leans back in the chair. "So this thing I wanted to talk to you about. It's about Warren."

My ears prick up.

"Don't be angry but since the barbeque and yer hospitalisation he has been trying to talk to me."

"What does he want?"

"Ye were off sick so I tried ignoring him at first but he said it had to do with the club and he is part owner so..." She looks sheepish. "I thought I should hear him out."

"What did he say?"

"He wanted my share of the club." She says. "My two percent."

"What?" I get angry.

The amount isn't the issue. It is the fact that he asked behind my back and if Warren got it he would have a majority share of the business. A fifty-one percent share to my forty-nine.

He would have the final say over any business decisions and I'd rather be dead that have him be the boss of me.

"I told him no obviously." Cheryl says.

This has been what he has been working towards. Taking over the club and destroying me in the process by infiltrating himself into my life and poisoning it. My business. My sister. My friends. Paddy. Pete.

Stephen.

Warren has been toxic.

But I have a plan. He can't out fox me. I don't know why it took so long for me to come up with it but the last few weeks have given me time to reflect.

The plan is painfully simple and straightforward and just a little shady. No Brady plan can be squeaky clean. It will become clear to you soon, I promise.

"You said no? That's a pity." I tell my sister.

"What?" She is surprised. "I thought you'd be pleased."

"I say we sell out shares to him." I say.

Cheryl stands up. "Are you mad, Bren? This is our business. I created it up from nothing."

I give her a grin. "And it is already worth more now than it was when you bought it. What do you need 2% shares for?"

Her affront and surprise turns into pensiveness. "I had it to protect _you, _Bren, so that if you and Warren were in deadlock, I got final say."

I raise a conspiratorial eyebrow. "I know. The Brady kids, in it together. But there is no need anymore where the club is concerned."

I reach out my pinkie for a pinkie touch; something we used to do when we were younger as a sign of sibling solidarity. She looks at me with distrust.

"What are ye up to?"

"Nothing." I smile. "I am tired of working with Foxy. The man is slippery. I am ready to move on."

_And Warren won't know what hit him by the time I'm through with him._

Yes there is another aspect to my revenge plan. I can't tell you now. it will ruin the surprise. I don't tell Cheryl either. She doesn't like evil Brendan. It is better to protect her from the unsavoury aspects of my personality.

She is smiling now. "How much money do you think we'll get?"

"You? Not much." I say dead pan. "But I'll be rolling in it." I give her a wink. "I'll talk to him and give him the good news, shall I? Yeah."

I turn around to leave.

"Where are you off to?"

"Stuff to do. People to see."

We both hear a boisterous unmistakeable laugh through the office doors.

"Ste?" She says. "I didn't put him down for a shift today."

"No. I did. I changed the rota. I was going to tell ye." I tell her. "Like I said. We are getting on fine. No need to keep us apart anymore... on the rota that is..."

"Right." She says.

I ignore her stupidly large smile and say her. "If that's all."

"One more thing." She picks up a pen and shuffles some papers in front of her. "Did you know that he has signed up to an internet dating site?"

What?

"Your Ste. Yeah." She nods as if she can read my mind.

Can she see my disappointment, surprise and devastation?

"He was telling me that there is a really nice guy that he has been messaging. They have swapped numbers already. Marco. That's his name. He is a builder. Nice face. Even nicer muscles. And he can string a sentence together."

"You've met him?"

"Ste's shown me his online profile."

He hasn't told me anything about this.

"He is thinking about meeting up with him soon." Cheryl continues. "You're looking tense there, Bren. You don't have a problem with it, do you? Since you're just _friends_ now."

Is she taunting me? Is my own sister trying to stick the knife in to see if I bleed?

"Yeah. Friends." I say numbly. The word feels heavy and hollow.

I think about all the time Stephen and I have spent together recently; how he has never brought up dating other men with me. He certainly hasn't told me about this guy.

"Right." I clear my throat. It has gone dry. "Good for him. I'll be sure to keep my fingers crossed that Mark isn't a rapist or a sixty year old bald man with a pot belly and a flatulence problem."

"Marco." Chez corrects.

"Whatever." I need to get out of here. This room feels claustrophobic all of a sudden.

I back out of the room and my eyes land on Stephen almost straight away. He is already working and dusting down the work surfaces of the bar with Rhys.

He gives me a beaming smile with a hint of hesitation as his hand stills from its rubbing. That is the norm now-a-days. He kind of/sort of seems happy to see me. But not completely.

"Hiya." He says.

I stare at him.

"How are you?" He asks.

"Yeah. Good." I say through gritted teeth as I approach him. "You?"

"Okay. I had our Leah and our Lucas round last night though. Lucas kept me up all night. I think he might be coming down with something. I gave him some _Calpol_ and he seemed better this morning when Amy came to pick them up so. I'll call a bit later to see how he is doing."

He rubs his eyes tiredly. I hear him but I'm not listening. All I can think is that for weeks he has been lying to me. Carrying on behind my back with other guys that he was hoping to hook up with.

"So are we still on for tonight?" He asks then yawns.

Another driving lesson. Until a few minutes ago I looked forward to them because they gave me a glimmer of hope.

"Ain't ye going to be busy, what with browsing 'Find-me-a-man-any-man-will-do-dot-com'?" I ask.

He goes pale then nods slowly. "I told Cheryl not to tell you."

"Didn't no one tell ye, Stephen? Blood is thicker than water."

"Um." He dithers. "I wasn't hiding it from you but I didn't know what to, I mean, I didn't know how you'd react."

"Like this." I turn on my heel and walk out of the club.

-0-0-

It's not what you think. I am not walking away from Stephen. I mean, I am, but not like that. Of course I am seething like I could break a limb or two off that builder guy he is thinking about dating. But I am not walking away from my plan to get him back.

I am just setting the wheels into motion because clearly I need to act quickly before it is too late and a chancer similar to Noah slips into the empty space by his side.

As I step out of the club I make a phone call.

"Hi." I say. "I'm not disturbing you, am I? Good."

I smile.

-0-0-

By the time I meet up with Peter at his school it is nearly midday. He is going from one class to another so you trail by his side. The corridors are full of loud, over-made up, inappropriately dressed teenage girls and too cool for school rude boys who have spent ages getting dressed to look like they hadn't bothered.

I scowl at their appearance. "What's with the tarty girl and homeless boy looks?"

"Careful, Bren, you're sounding your age." My friend says with a grin.

I shove a kid out of the way for daring to wear a sweater designed with holes in it. He looks at me with surprise as he dusts himself off and continues to walk away.

"Stop pushing the kids or else I'm going to ban you from coming to see me." Peter scolds lightly.

"He deserved it. Fucking holes."

"You going to tell me why I have the honour of your presence then?" He cuts to the chase as we draw to a stop outside the classroom that is his destination and he spins round in his wheelchair to face me.

"When was the last time I saw you, ey? Not long after we cleared the air, right?"

I look inside the room. It is filled with slightly older students. I recognise some of them from the club.

What do you know. The little underage fuckers. I find myself grinning broadly.

"No. I've been busy."

"That's what Cheryl tells me." Pete says knowingly. I know that she has probably being gossiping about the driving lessons with him.

"I've found a way to make Warren pay." I say.

He looks up at me curiously. "Yeah?"

"He won't know what hit him."

He gets concerned and whispers. "Please tell me it's not illegal."

I smirk. "I won't."

"Jesus, Bren. You don't want to get yourself into trouble. You only just got out of jail."

"Don't panic. It's nothing too bad."

"What is it then?"

I tell him my plan and afterwards he grins and admits,

"Fine. I like it. It's got legs. Let me know if and when you need me."

I rub my moustache. "Look at ye, Petey. Ye getting all misty eyed? Thinking on revisiting yer misspent youth?"

"Just willing to help a friend in need." He says slyly. "Plus I hate Warren. By the way, Chez tells me you have been hanging out with Ste a lot." He raises an eyebrow at me.

Not even a subtle segue.

"I've been giving him driving lessons." I say simply. "He needed them so."

He laughs. "So when are you going to stop pissing about and tell him that you love him."

I scowl at him. "I'll let you know when I need your help with me love life, okay?" I tell him meaningfully. "I've got it under control."

"Now I'm scared."

"Why?"

"Brendan, mate, I don't know how to break it to you but you are clueless when it comes to matters of the heart. Check your track record."

He might be right but I say, "I know what I'm doing. I've got a plan."

His eyes widen in apprehension.

-0-0-

My phone beeps as I head out of Hollyoaks High so I read the message it signals.

_Are you angry with me? Why did you walk off like that?_

_S_

I sigh and consider my response. Yes, I am angry at him and he is thick if hasn't figured out why. I am angry that he has decided that what I am to him is not enough. That he feels a need to fill a void in his life that I once occupied. That he didn't think to warn me so that I could tell him that it is unnecessary for him to look further than me.

I text,

_I am not angry. There was a call I had to make and someone I had to meet. Are we still on for that lesson tonight? 6pm? Same place?_

_BB_

I wait for his reply. It is almost instant.

_Yes. On the curb nr my house? x_

I pull back the urge to punch the air. Brendan 1. Marco 0.

_Yeah._

-0-0-

We are driving through the streets of my neighbourhood. We are less than two blocks away from home. It's six thirty and the sun is beginning to set on another day in Chester.

It is the beginning of autumn and a slight chill is in the crisp still air. Crazy how the seasons flow so quickly into each other. Barbeque season is gone and before we know it Christmas will be round the corner.

"It's starting to get dark earlier, innit?" Stephen comments idly as he steers around the gentle bend of the road.

I nod then instruct him to,

"Pull over behind the black car just ahead of us."

"Okay." He carefully parks my car as instructed then turns on the head lights automatically. He looks over at me expectantly.

He drives my Mercedes _S_ class like it is his; with confidence. Once he leaves at the end of this lesson I won't just be left with his warmth and scent on my seat but it will also be pushed too far forwards. The mirrors won't be positioned right for my eye line. And it will all remind me of him.

He caresses the steering wheel while smiling at me. "You are going to ask me to reverse park again, ain't ya?"

I smirk and look down at his lips. "Ain't ye a clever boy."

"I can do it with me eyes shut now, Bren." He brags.

Of course he can. He could pass a driving test right now not that he needs to know that.

"Yeah. When you have enough room to park a bus." I say.

He laughs and jabs his elbow into my side. "No! That's not true!"

I find myself smiling. "Prove it."

He checks his mirrors then pulls out into the road and aligns himself with the parked black car. "Watch."

He puts my car into reverse and looks over his shoulder. His mouth is slightly open, his tongue lightly resting against his upper teeth in concentration as he executes the manoeuvre.

He is looking so fucking hot I could devour him whole. Doesn't he realise that is what I am thinking right now as I stare at his exposed neck, the curve of his jaw, his parted lips?

"Tada!" He says smugly as he cranks up the hand brake and folds his arms across his chest when he is parked. "See."

I clear my throat. I wasn't paying attention to his driving at all.

"Yeah. Good." I look at the curb then tease him. "You planning to fit another car between the car and the pavement?"

He takes off his seatbelt then leans over me to clock the curb. I get a whiff of his aftershave and the warmth of his body heat for a split second before he sits back down again.

"It's parked perfect." He protests. "In fact, I think I'm ready to take the test now."

_No,_ I think.

"Oh yeah?" I say.

If he takes the test, he will pass. If he passes we won't have our lessons together again. If we don't have our lessons I won't have a good reason to meet up with him outside work anymore.

"You know, so I can get about more easily." He explains.

_To see your next potential boyfriend?_

Yes. Jealousy is a disease and I have contracted a bad case of it.

Without thinking I blurt out something I had planned to keep to myself for a little longer... until the time was right so to speak.

"Eileen and I are getting an annulment."

He looks at me in confusion. "What's one of them then?"

"It's where a marriage is declared null and void by law."

"You're getting a divorce?" He whispers in surprise.

"No. By law it will be as if we never got married."

His eyes practically bulge out of his skull.

"What? I mean-" He leans away from me. "How?"

"It's on the grounds of my deception and, uh, adultery." I clear my throat as I break his stare to look at the rapidly darkening skies in my neighbourhood. "On account of my being gay."

He looks at me as if I am pulling his leg. "You're kidding right?"

"No. She can say she married me without knowing the full truth about me and that if she had she wouldn't have gone ahead with the marriage."

"But you told her no, didn't you? I mean, when she asked you." He says.

"_I_ asked her, Stephen. _I_ want to leave her and asked for a divorce at first but Irish law requires a three year cooling period and we have only been officially separated for a year. That's two more years of being married to her. I don't want that. That is why we are going for an annulment. It's quicker."

"I don't get it." He says softly. "Why now?"

I unfasten my seatbelt and he swallows nervously as I turn to face him.

"You really don't know?" I say quietly.

He shakes his head slowly.

"Because I am done lying, Stephen. I want to be honest from now on."

His mouth forms a perfect O.

After a while he says. "Well, um. That's good, innit? If that's what you want, I mean." He drums his fingers on the steering wheel and looks straight ahead. His knee is jerking a mile a minute. "So can we continue with the lesson now?"

I look at him in disbelief. Is he just going to gloss over what I have just told him?

I try to touch his cheek, literally and metaphorically reaching out to him, but he pulls away with a look of shock on his face.

That barrier he has made there to keep me out is made of reinforced steel.

He is impenetrable.

"Don't." He whispers.

"Okay." I lean back, giving him space. "Do you want to know why I asked for the divorce in the first place?"

"No." He practically squeaks.

"Because I wanted to prove to you that I have changed. That what I had with Eileen isn't what I want now."

He looks at my hand that tried to caress him just a moment ago as it hovers in the air near his face. To a stranger looking in it might look like I am about to give him a slap. As I look at him I can tell that he is thinking the same because his face clouds over.

"What we want isn't always what's good for us, Bren."

"Are you sure about that?" I grab his wrist quickly and move to feel his pulse. "Your heart is racing. I still get you going."

He shakes himself free in an instant and I watch as he opens the door, gets out and walks away without a backwards look into the night.

I don't run after him like in some cheesy TV programme. There is no point. He will only reject me.

Stephen is not going to make this easy and that's fine. I get that. I told you. I am ready to fight to have him back but this is a marathon not a sprint.

I'll take the time it takes to do whatever it takes to get him back.

-0-

I drive the short distance home not bothering to adjust the car seat and mirrors to suit me but detour slightly to pass the bus stop Stephen waits at when he refuses a ride from me.

He is waiting there under a street light with two other people. I stop the car right in front of him and say,

"Get in the car. I'll give you a lift home."

He shakes his head. With that infuriating new politeness he uses with me he says, "Thank you for offering but I'll be fine."

"Or stay over tonight. It's gone pitch black already."

The way he reacts to my invitation makes me feel like a thigh stroking, lip-licking pervert.

"Um, I am used to taking the bus, Brendan. It's really no big deal."

I look at the two other people waiting at the bus stop with him. They look okay I suppose; an elderly woman talking to herself and a young boy who vaguely reminds me of Declan who listening to music on his iPod.

So I reluctantly stop pestering him. "So I'll see ye tomorrow? At work?"

"Yeah sure." He says tightly.

-0-0-

What a bitch of a day.

The optimism I woke up with this morning has fizzled to almost nothing now but for some reason the lyrics of the song that got me going have started to run through my head again, the way songs do sometimes.

_#I wanna roll with him a hard pair we will be,_

_I little gambling is fun when you're with me, I love it_

_Russian roulette is not fun without a gun_

_And baby when it's love if it's not rough, it isn't fun_

_Oh-ohoh-oh oh, oh-ohoh-oh oh oh. I'll get him hot,_

_Show him what I've got #_

I'll give you one guess what I do when I get back home.

I'll forgive you if your answer is 'go hard at the whiskey' but I've sworn off hardcore liquor binging.

I'll also forgive you if your answer is 'have a wank' but I am too angry and frustrated to be in that frame of mind.

The answer is 'make a phone call'.

First, though, I go to the kitchen grab a spoon and a pot of honey and walk up the stairs through the quiet corridor that echoes and go into my bedroom. I get undressed and brush my teeth then I slip into the sheets.

I dial a number and press my phone to my ear.

"Brendan. I wasn't expecting you call."

I smirk. "I was starting to think you were avoiding me."

"I was."

I emit a short sharp laugh. "Then you'll like what I am calling you about."

"You fucking off back to Ireland?" He quips.

"Bet you'd love that. No. Warren. I am staying right here. But I think we can both agree that we have..." I search for the correct word, "...bickered a little bit over the last few months and I was thinking that maybe our working relationship has come to an end-"

"I'm not selling my share of the club."

"No. I am suggesting you buy my share and Cheryl's."

There is a pause.

"What's the catch?"

"No catch. With all due respect, I am tired of seeing your fat arse all the time and let's face it Chez and I were putting in ninety percent of the work and only profiting by fifty-one percent." Warren had never pulled his weight when it came to the club. "I'm a businessman. I want to get my fair share of the cut and right now I think you are taking the piss."

"I bring ideas to the table." He argues.

"You treat the place like a holiday. Look if you want Chez Chez it's yours. The offer is on the table for forty-eight hours. Let me know."

I put the phone down on him and pick up the honey pot. I scope a spoonful and eat it.

Yum. Nothing is sweeter than honey.


	38. Chapter 37

_**Folks,**_

_**My bloody twitter account is on the fritz! It's got corrupted so I have deactivated it and am waiting for the twitter gods to sort it out. Sorry to anyone who got spam from my account. I got it too and now I am pissed off and mortified in equal measure.**_

_**Chips x**_

xxx xxx xxx

Can I tell you something?

I feel lonely like all the time which is mad, right, since I have kids and a best friend in Ames. But she spends all her free time with Pete now and of course I love my kids to bits but they can't fulfil the part of me that craves adult company and a different kind of love to what they can offer.

I don't even have mates to distract me; to hang out with. Rae is an ex so it is not the same. Doug, Riley, Ethan were great at one point but they never really belonged to me. They were Noah's friends and now I am sure they hate me since they think I two-timed him with Brendan and drove Noah out of the village. When I spot them out and about now I duck out of the way before they see me.

So, yeah, I have no mates.

Actually. Sorry. I'm lying. I have Brendan, haven't I, now that we are talking again. I never thought that would happen after everything we have been through but that all changed the day of the barbeque at _The Dog in the Pond. _He got punched by Noah and I realised where my loyalties lay. I told Brendan I loved him right there and then in front of everyone. Without thinking. It just kind of happened. It were totally unplanned.

It were the truth, right, but then you guys know that already. And you probably thought that meant it were all going to be okay, right? Me and Brendan? Back together again.

But I knew it couldn't be that way. Like, as in, we can't ever go back to what we was. I am not prepared to put up with what I had to deal with for months when I were with him. All that secrecy. The cloak and dagger act.

I've grown up, me. I know you don't want to hear this but Noah helped because he taught me what I should expect from a normal caring relationship; open affection, equality and honesty.

So the most Brendan and me can be is friends because he can't give me those three things.

We are cool with each other now. Kind of. Sort of. At work we have a laugh which feels nice. And, like, he'll look at me across the club and after a bit he'll walk up to where I am at the bar, lean over it and tease me about something or try rubbing me up the wrong way with that cheeky grin on his face. You know the one I'm talking about.

During my driving lessons he is much quieter. He pretty much just speaks to give me instructions so I fill the dead air with a load of chat. I do that because it gets hard for me when we are alone and I am driving us around his neighbourhood or mine. I can feel tension between us that gets bigger and bigger as the lesson goes on. Not negative tension, right. It's like this sizzle, I guess. It fills the air making it hard for me to breathe and concentrate on what I am doing. It makes me feel really aware that he is right there next to me and that if I decided to lean over I could touch him and kiss him. Not that I ever would but all those thoughts go round and round in my head especially when he stares at me when he thinks I haven't noticed.

My stomach goes into knots and my heart pumps away and I want to shout at him to stop because I think he is proper eyeing me up and at the same time I silently beg him never to stop and then I pray for the lesson to end and when it does I practically run out of the car away from him as quickly as I can before I make a right show of myself.

He must think I am nuts when I am fine with him one minute and not the next. Maybe I am crazy or stupid or something. I can't sort myself out and be normal around him.

Anyway, I have gone off topic, haven't I? I was telling you about how lonely I have been feeling. How I missed companionship. So I told Ames about it a few weeks ago.

Not surprisingly she already had a solution for me.

-0-

'I'm not surprised you're lonely.' She says. 'You've been hopping from Bren to Noah to Bren and back again for the better part of a year. You've forgotten what it's like to not be in a relationship. You don't know what to do with yourself.'

'You're making me sound like a tramp. I'm not.'

She raises an eyebrow. 'I know you're not. They were both crap for you in the end.'

'So what you're saying is that I should take a break from dating for a while.' I say, guessing.

'No. Silly! You need to get yourself back out there and start dating again.'

That sounds like the worst advice ever. 'Isn't that rebounding, Ames?'

'Rebound relationships are underrated.' She says. 'You never know he might turn out to be the one...'

I look at her as if she's gone crazy.

'... or the one for right now!' She winks mischievously.

'What do you mean 'He'?'

She stops smiling and her eyes drop to the floor. 'Um?'

'You said he might turn out to be the one.'

'Didn't mean that.' She says evasively.

'Amy?' I say in warning. She is hiding something. What has she been up to?

'Okay.' She looks at me with dread. 'Don't be mad, yeah, but I thought I'd give you a hand.'

'With what?'

'Getting you back on the dating scene.' She takes a breath and grins. 'I signed you up to an online dating site. Don't kill me!'

-0-

"Hiya. You busy?" Amy walks into my bedroom and sits next to me on my bed. I am hunched over the laptop that we share.

"No." I mumble, not taking my eyes off the screen.

"Are you chatting with Marco?" Amy sing-songs. She rests her head on my shoulder and reads what I am slowly typing with two fingers.

"Yes, mum." I turn to look at her.

She reads what I have typed out loud. "No. Sorry. I'm busy tonight. Maybe some other time." She turns to me in annoyance. "Ste! Why are you brushing him off?"

_Hi, Ste. Why don't we meet up tonight? I know it's a bit last minute but I'm dying to see you in person and I don't want to wait any longer. It doesn't have to be anything big. We can start with a couple of pints and see where the night takes us. You choose the place. I'll pick up the tab. Deal?_

"I'm not brushing him off." I say defensively. I point at his message. "He has written 'see where the night takes us'." I quote. "Who does he think I am? I'm not sleeping with him on our first date, Ames."

"God, you are vain, you. That's so not what he means." She says. "And anyway what else are you doing that's more interesting or important? I thought this is what you wanted."

So did I but now that I am faced with 'dating' again it doesn't feel right.

"It is."

"So then go."

That is when I remember my driving lesson with Bren. Surely that is more important since I need to learn to drive and I don't want to not go.

"I'll think about it."

"If you won't have him then I will." She says dreamily as she looks at his picture. "He's lush."

"You've got a boyfriend."

"Oh yeah. Bummer."

-0-0-

I walk into the pub I picked to meet Marco in Chester and nearly walk out again. Everyone here is looking proper cool and up for a night out. I am not in the right frame of mind for this. I'm not. This is a bad idea. What the hell am I doing here?

This is pure rebounding; a reaction to Brendan going all emo on me during our lesson and trying to touch me. He keeps invading my thoughts. The bastard. That is why I called Marco just before Brendan drove up to me at the bus stop earlier offering me a lift home or a bed to stay for the night.

Honestly, if I hadn't just made plans to meet my online date in person for the first time I would have probably accepted Bren's offer.

I feel a light tap on my shoulder and turn around.

"Stephen?"

"Marco?" I say hoping that my dropped jaw has come up from the floor. The picture was accurate.

He. Is.

F.

I.

T.

Yeah. Not tall though. Like maybe an inch shorter than me which is strange since Noah and Bren have had at least three inches on me in height. The thing I notice that I like, which I know is weird, is his smell. He smells really good. Freshly showered. Zesty.

He shakes my hand then pulls me into a hug.

Forward.

"When you called I thought you made a mistake. I thought you weren't going to turn up." He says with a smile. "You look hot by the way."

I can't help smiling. It's been a while since I got a compliment.

"Thanks." I say. "You look... yeah. Really good."

Don't drool, Stephen.

He slides his hand over my chest and says. "I'll get the pints in if you find us some seats."

"Okay."

We part ways and I walk up to the seating area. Since there are no available seats I hover there awkwardly, waiting for someone to leave. My eyes fall on a couple that are in a corner couch, all over each other, necking. She has practically climbed him and he has her gripped tightly in his arms.

I hate that level of public affection. It borders on obscene. It is almost exhibitionism but I can't look away. When they move apart he smiles at her and cups her face in his hand, stroking her cheek gently.

I remember Bren doing that to me. He liked doing that. He would stare right into my eyes with a smile on his slightly parted lips and then he would run his thumb over my lips and I would usually be the one to kiss him first.

That is why I pulled away from him in the car earlier. If he touches me I can't be in control of myself. I would pounce on him with the pent up frustration of a man who has seen no action for a few weeks or something.

When I snap out of my thoughts I not only realise that my eyes are still fixed on the couple but also that they are both looking back at me like I am a pervert.

I look away quickly but I am too late.

The guy grabs his girlfriend's hand and walks her away from you.

"Fucking weirdo." She mutters as she walks past me. "Wind your neck in."

I scowl at her. "Um. No. Right I weren't looking at you. I spaced out."

She gives me an evil which I ignore as I sit on the couch they have vacated, taking my jacket off and placing it next to me to occupy as much of it as I can.

It's sod's law that right at that minute the three amigos, Doug, Riley and Ethan, walk into the pub. I slouch down, in hiding, hoping they don't see me.

Unfortunately seconds later Doug says, "Ste. Hi."

I can't ignore him so I look up and try a smile as I see Riley and Ethan keep walking to the bar unaware of your presence.

"Oh hi, Doug. Didn't see you there!"

He gives me a curious look. "Are you avoiding us, Ste?"

I sit up straight and lie. "No."

"You are! I've seen you run away from us in the village." He says and takes a seat next to me without asking.

"I figured you lot didn't want to know after what happened with Noah." I confess.

"You're kidding, right? Don't get me wrong. Riley was angry but Amy spoke to us. She explained everything. We know that you didn't two-time Noah. I get that it couldn't have been easy." He pats your shoulder. "And anyway, I am not as close to Noah as they are so."

I exhale with relief. "I was sure you guys were going to hurl abuse at me if you saw me."

He shakes his head and looks around, spotting his mates at the bar. "You should join us. Are you here with anyone?"

"Um, yeah. I'm sort of on a date actually."

He raises an eyebrow at me. "Like with a dude?"

I nod._ Who else?_

"Does Brendan know?"

I frown at that. Why is he asking that?

"No." I say as I spot Marco weaving through the crowd towards us. "It's not his business, is it?" I say with more steel in my voice than I feel. "Here he is. I'll introduce you."

Doug stands up with a huge smile on his face when Marco stops in front of us. He says gleefully, "Brendan's going to hate this!"

Marco frowns at Doug as he passes me my pint. I glare at Doug and say, "Marco, this is Doug."

"I'm a friend of Ste's." Doug injects.

"Marco." My date says with a grin and shakes Doug's hand. "Who's Brendan?"

"My boss. Ignore him." I say quickly.

Doug winks at me and slaps me on the back in that 'well done' kind of way and then says, "Well I'd better catch up with the guys. I'll leave you to it, lads. Have a nice night."

I am tempted to grab him and tell him to please not tell Brendan about seeing me here tonight. I know it's strange but for some reason I don't want him to know. I don't stop him because that would make it look like I cared what Brendan thought. So instead I turn to Marco and give him a smile.

"You were saying something about going somewhere else after this." I say and tentatively run my fingers over his forearm before taking a gulp of my drink.

His eyes darken and he takes a step closer to me and curls a finger into my waistband. "Yeah. I was. Suggestions?"

I close my eyes. Inhale. Exhale. Open my eyes. "Yeah. I think so."


	39. Chapter 38

**Hi Folks,**

**I know... what? An update? For Poker Night? Crazy!**

**The end is nigh with this story. Probably one or two chapters left depending on length.**

**Chips x**

**-0-0-**

Warren comes looking for me. That's something that hasn't happened in a while. That fact that he comes all the way to my house in Chester lets me know that whatever he is after he means business.

I let him in as if I was expecting him.

"Morning Foxy. Tea? Coffee? Hot chocolate?" I ask pleasantly while leading him to the kitchen.

He looks around himself and mutters, "When did you start living like a Stepford wife?"

I grin at him as he takes a seat on a bar stool and I stick on the kettle. "I'll put my pink apron on and serve you muffins I made fresh this morning if you want."

He smirks.

"I take it you are here to discuss my offer."

He narrows his eyes at me. "I just want to make sure you weren't on something when you proposed to sell me your sister's and your share of the club."

"I was stone cold sober."

"So you are prepared to give up the business just because you can't stand the sight of me."

It is my turn to smirk. "When you put it like that you make me sound like a petulant child."

He raises an eyebrow that says 'yes.'

"Warren, like I told you yesterday, I have had a lot of time to reflect recently thanks to that stunt you pulled, getting me put in jail. Good one by the way."

"Thanks."

"Anyway, you could say I have grown up. You and I, we have been playing this cat and mouse game. I get one up on you; you get one up on me."

This bit is important. I have to show him a bit of vulnerability. He has to believe me, you see; believe that I am done with the bullshit between us. That I have no bad blood against him any longer.

I walk up to him and sit on a stool next to him. I lay my hands on the kitchen counter palms up. Honest. Open. Nothing to hide here, Officer. Then I look him straight in the eye. His are still narrowed. Sceptical. The fucker. No worries. I am a master at persuasion.

"But, see, the thing is I have finally realised that it is a never ending game. A Penrose staircase. We go nowhere. So far you have messed around with my sister. You have strung her along and ditched her like unwanted leftovers. You have whispered in Paddy's ear and destroyed my reputation back home. You have wrecked my friendship with Peter. We don't talk after his betrayal."

The last two points are lies, of course but Warren doesn't know that.

I'm getting into this. I can almost feel a tear forming but I rein it in. The key is to not go hammy on my performance. A nuance of sincerity wouldn't go amiss now. A bit of laying the soul bare.

The kettle switch flicks indicating that the water has boiled but I both ignore it.

I think of Stephen and say what I feel.

"And, yeah, I haven't admitted it before but you have taken away the most important person in my life away from me. You have ensured that he will never ever look at me the way he did before."

Warren looks so surprised by my revelation that his eyebrows nearly disappear into his hairline they shoot up so high.

"Are you talking about Rat-boy?"

I ignore his crassness. My words are slow and measured. I want to make him to really hear what I'm saying.

"So when you say that I am prepared to give up the club just because I can't stand the sight of you the short answer is yes. But the reason is that we are done. It's over then. You owe me nothing. I owe you nothing."

I stand up and feeling my heart beating a mile a minute. Fucking Stephen. He runs through my head just because I mentioned his name. I occupy my hands making two mugs of tea.

"How much?" Warren says.

My back is turned to him so I am able to hide my smile from him. Then I compose myself and turn to face him, bringing him his cup of cha.

"I can make the price painfully reasonable for a quick sell."

He takes a sip of his brew and I follow suit. When he puts his mug down I know I have him by the balls.

"I'm in." He says, then after a beat. "But I don't want this to drag on, Brendan. I want a quick exchange."

"Perfect. I'll get my lawyer to draw up the papers a.s.a.p." I offer him my hand for a handshake then look at the time. "Guess I should be getting to the club. Are you coming?"

"Later."

Lazy fuck.

"No problem." I say. "See you then."

-0-0-

On the drive to _Chez Chez_ I call my lawyer to get the ball rolling on the sell. The figure we agree on is enough to give Chez and me a reasonable profit without upsetting Warren's sense of thriftiness.

I park the car and make my way to the back entrance of the club keen to tell my sister the good news.

I am stopped in the courtyard by a very enthusiastic,

"Brendan!"

Yankee Doodle Dougie is dressed in gym gear running towards me. He is still keeping up the pretence of his New Year's resolution, by the looks of things.

"What." I bark. "I'm busy."

"This won't take a moment." He gasps.

He stops in front of me just shy of the steps to the club's back entrance, panting and places his hands on his knees.

He takes deep breaths.

"If you have a personal trainer, Douglas, fire him. I swear you are going backwards. I've seen better exercise tolerance in people with one lung."

"Give me a second!" He pants. "I've been out jogging!"

I wait impatiently while he gets his breath back and then straightens up. "So have you seen Stephen yet?"

Seriously? This is why he stopped me? To ask me if I have seen one of my own employees as I am about to walk into the place where said employee works.

That deserves a slap on the side of the head.

"Ouch!"

"That-" I say as I clip him again. "-Is for wasting my time."

I turn on my heel and begin to make my way up the stairs.

"Okay. That's assault, Brendan!" He shouts at me.

"So sue me!" I call over my shoulder.

"Just thought you should know that Ste is so over you it isn't even funny."

God. I know the kid and I aren't best friends but this is below the belt.

"That's old news, baby." I try not to show that his words have stabbed me in the heart.

"No, I mean it, Brendan. I was out with the boys in Chester last night pub hopping and we bumped into Ste at _The Square Bottle Inn_."

I stop midway up the flight of stairs and turn.

"He was on a date with some guy called Marco. I'm not gay, right, but I think you would have looked twice. I guess you could call him hot or whatever."

Lead weight in gut.

"What time?"

"I was still standing so it must have been before eleven."

Useless fuckwit. Doug grins. He loves this. The twat. He starts jogging on the spot, getting his heart rate up again.

Those expressive eyebrows of his go up as he says, "Must say, they were looking pretty tight. I went to get a drink and when I turned back round to look for them they had snuck off together!"

As in snuck off and Stephen politely shook his ass-wipe date's hand goodbye then went home and tucked himself into bed with a cup of _Horlicks_ or snuck off and got fucked the hell out by the same ass-wipe date who is definitely not good enough for him?

Doug winks at me as if he can read my thoughts then says, "Wonder what they got up to? Any who. Gotta go. Training for the Great North Run. You running?"

"Fuck off." I say and make my way into the club.

-0-0-

It is too early for employees to be here so I know that I have time before I have to confront Stephen the 'day-after-the-night-before'. The signs are subtle but can recognise them because I have been the cause of them numerous times before.

The day after we had sex he was always more relaxed and comfortable in his own skin. I swear his lips were more pouty, his skin warmer and more responsive, his gaze more direct. He was quieter and more intense. There was a worldliness about him that clung on before fading away slowly to give way to his more usual air of naïveté. And when he looked at me it was with a certainty that made me pause; like he was telling me that we were connected now, whether I liked it or not.

So actually maybe I won't see the signs because I wasn't the one to fuck him last night.

I stride towards the office. I need to speak with my sister. Yes, fine, partly because of Stephen but also because of the club.

When I walk in she has company. Her arms are wrapped around a _Chez-Chez_ uniform in that typical mother hen way of hers, hands soothingly rubbing a back as it heaves.

There is someone in the uniform, of course, and sod's law dictates that it is the one person that I have on my mind.

Stephen.

They turn to stare at me simultaneously.

One look at his tearstained red face and I am a ball of rage. Have the tears got something to do with yesterday night? Did that Marco do something to him?

"Shit, Brendan. No." Cheryl says softly. "You could have knocked."

On my own fucking office door?

"Is everything okay, here?" I say balling my hands into tight fists, trying to stay cool but failing miserably. I know my jaw is clenched. My cheeks must be red. My chest is probably puffed out.

I take a step closer to him.

"It's fine, Brendan." Cheryl indicates for me to get out of the room.

Ste turns to look away from me. He is rubbing his tears trying to act like he isn't as upset as he clearly is.

"No." I say and take another step closer. "Are you okay, Stephen?"

"Seriously. Not now." She says quietly. "I'll talk to you later."

Ever since Cheryl found out exactly what happened between me and Stephen (that at one time I beat him up and hurt him emotionally) she has hovered between scepticism and optimism when it comes to my involvement in his life.

When my own sister and my own, I mean, Stephen look at me like I am an alien, my head hurts as I think about where, how, when and why it all went wrong.

I can remember it like it was yesterday even though it was months ago.

It was that stupid poker night. The irony is that it was a night where I had wanted to show him... something. I needed him to see that he meant something to people around him.

That he had worth. That he was invaluable. Irreplaceable.

To me.

On his birthday.

Only it wasn't his birthday. It was a week later which was a stupid thing in hindsight.

And he got tipsy which wasn't ideal.

And the presents didn't mean anything without explanation but I couldn't find the words at the time.

And I didn't tell him what I meant to convey. I didn't say what I was dying to say because I was too nervous.

Or proud.

Or afraid.

Or stupid.

Or something.

And that was one misplaced _Jenga_ piece too many so the whole thing came tumbling down.

And I lost him.

And he kept getting further away. A haze of cobwebs kept intervening between us; some more opaque than others. Human cobwebs; Rae, Amy, Pete, Paddy, Warren, Mitzeee, Noah, Dougie. Ethan. Riley. Chez. Eileen. Each had a hand in keeping us apart. Sure. But they were not the cause of driving us apart in the first place.

That was my entire fault.

So now he is closer to my sister than he is to me. When did that happen?

He feels he can go to her, spill his woes and cry on her shoulder.

"Has this got to do with your date with Marco yesterday?" I ask him.

He turns to stare at me wide eyed, probably wondering how I found out about it. I must seem like some stalker-like psycho, following him remotely wherever he goes. I have already proved that I am capable of it. I got Doug to give me updates when he was dating Noah.

"Fuck's sake, Bren. Can't you tell he's upset already?"

"Did he hurt you, Stephen?" I whisper in anger. "Just tell me."

_And I'll sort it_.

"No." He says quietly, all watery eyes and runny nose. "No."

Chez literally wafts air in my direction to shoo me out.

Fine. He needs her more than he needs me.

Fine.

I duck out and loiter at the bar. My hands itch for a glass of something strong but I've made a deal with myself and it's not even eleven am so I resist.

It feels like hours pass before they walk out together, arm in arm. He doesn't look at me as they get to the top of the stairs where they hug and share a kiss and he says bye to her before down away from me, out the building.

Cheryl turns to face me, the picture of fury. "God, you are something! Insensitive!"

"Why was he crying?"

"Because."

"Because why?"

"I'm not telling you."

"You're my sister."

"He's my best friend."

"Since when?"

"There you go with your ego again."

I make a move to follow him but she stops me.

"Not now." She says sharply. "I've sent him to order next month's drinks delivery. He needs space right now."

Even though she doesn't say '_from you_' I can hear it in her tone.

What have I done now?

"Amy is his best friend." I say.

"Maybe there are things that Ste can't share with Amy."

"Such as?"

"Argh!" Cheryl shoves me in frustration.

"Did he tell you about his date with Marco?" I ask.

"How do you know about it anyway?"

"Doug saw Stephen yesterday carrying on with the plumber with muscles and decided to rub my nose in it."

"Why don't you ask Ste yourself if you want to know about it?" She says. "Later."

"Because he won't want to know." I say angrily. It's frustration really. Me not being able to get through to him. "I tried talking to him during our driving lesson yesterday. I told him about me and Eileen getting an annulment. I admitted that I was turning a new leaf for him and wanted us to get back together."

Cheryl frowns. She looks surprised.

"You told him that? Ste didn't say."

"Yes and he still fucking went on a date with that pumped up plumber and fucked him."

"What did you say to Ste exactly?"

"What do you mean?"

"In the car during the lesson."

"You mean details?"

"Yes."

I wrack my brain. Why is that important? "I told him I was getting an annulment."

"Yes."

"I told him it was because of my sexuality. I told him that I didn't want Eileen, that I wanted to be honest with myself and I wanted to prove to him that I could change. Then I tried to touch him."

"God. You are useless!"

She walks away from me in disgust. I grab her arm and stop her.

"What's wrong with that?"

"If you don't know then I can't help you." She says. "Did you think he would fall back into your arms after a few scattered incoherent words that meant nothing? After everything you have been through?"

Maybe. Yes. Definitely.

I'm stupid.

She stares at me and paces. Then she stares at me some more and chews her nail. "Fuck it." She says finally. " Okay, I am going to tell you something but then that's it." Cheryl says then lowers her voice. "They didn't sleep together, okay. The date was a bust."

"What-"

"That is all I'm saying, Brendan." She says lifting her hands as she walks towards the office. "Jesus, do I have to sort everything out around here?"

I can't help but grin. Like a huge fucking grin.

I make brisk strides towards my little sister. When I catch up with her, her back turned to me, I wrap my arms around her, squeezing her really hard.

"Thank you." I whisper into her hair. "Thank you."

"You could still fuck it up."

"I won't." I say as I let her go and she faces me. "I can't have some guy named Marco take him from me, can I?"

-0-0-

I forgot to tell her about Warren, didn't I? You can see how I got distracted though, right.

Anyway, I have more pressing issues right now. I have someone to ingratiate myself to, another to boss around and yet another avoid, for now. That a lot of work in not a lot of time and it's all in the name of ... well, these feeling that I have for Stephen.

-0-

Phase 1. Ingratiate myself to Amy.

"Shit Brendan!" She says with a mixture of surprise and fear.

I should maybe stop breaking and entering into that council house they live in but it seemed better to loiter indoors than outdoors.

She has the Hay monsters with her and by the looks of things they have been out shopping. Cute little beasts. Smiley. Playful. The boy, Lucas, toddles up to me and offers me the peels of what may have been a tangerine.

"Thank you." I tell him.

He looks bashful.

"Your locks are too easy to pick." I say to Amy.

"Normal people don't try to unpick them." She says as she puts her shopping down.

"I could show you where to get some good ones. Tougher locks that actually do what they are meant to do." I say.

"Lucas!" Amy says sharply when the boy gives me a toy car, like an offering. Both hands extended out. Palms up. Toy perched on top.

I take it reverentially and hold it with the peel then I poke my tongue out at him which he finds ridiculously amusing. He laughs.

If only his dad was as easily persuadable.

Amy puts her shopping down on the coffee table. "Why don't you and Leah go and play in your room for a bit while I talk to this man?"

This man. Ouch.

Lucas looks between me and my pokey tongue and his mother and her stern face.

For some reason she wins and off he goes with his sister.

"Bye." I wave at them.

"Bye, Brendan." Leah says shyly as they turn the corner, out of sight.

I shouldn't be shocked that they know my name since I have seen these kids about for a while now but I am. I didn't think they recognised me from one day to the next. I have hardly been Uncle Brendan to them.

"I'm going to call the police." Amy says as she crosses her arms across her insignificant chest.

This is not how I wanted this to go.

"Not necessary." I say as I approach her cautiously.

She should come with a sign that says,

_Danger_

_Handle With Care_

"What do you want?"

"Stephen." I say. May as well cut to the chase.

She snorts a laugh. "Let me guess. He has apparently walked away with the work keys or you need him to work an extra shift or some other bit of crap that is really just an excuse for you to keep interfering with his life."

So this was never going to be easy but she is already breaking my balls.

"I want him to go out with me, Amy."

Her face is hilarious when it is shocked. The key is to not laugh now though.

"You what?"

"That is what I have come to tell you. I-" Man up, Brady, "-want Stephen and me to be together again. Properly."

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" She sits down... on a squeaky toy.

"You hate me and I get that."

"That is an understatement, Brendan. There is a reason, reasons, for the hate."

"I know. I am not here to make excuses. I have done things that I am not proud of in my life, to Stephen, that he didn't deserve. I need to ask for his forgiveness and explain myself to him. I know that." How do I put this next part? When it comes to words of an emotional nature I fail miserably. "I need you to know that I think there were times, too few I know, but there were times when we were happy...I made him happy. He made me happy. Really happy."

"I don't get it. What's bringing this on?"

"I've always felt like this." I say.

"For every good moment you may have shared with him there were a thousand were I was left picking up the pieces." She says. "Do you know how it feels to see your friend like that time and time again? What makes you think things will be different this time? And trying is not good enough."

Her ratio of good and bad isn't quite correct but I get her point, her anger and her sceptism.

"Because I am out now. Not yet proud but I've accepted it. No more secrets. I have nothing to hide. All that hate and anger that I carried around with me. It was all tied into it and now it's gone. I should have never aimed it at him."

"No."

"I am not promising him a traditional thing."

"Relationship. It's not a dirty word, Brendan. Relationship."

I take a deep breath. "Relationship. Right. Yeah. I can't promise a traditional relationship but I can promise that I'll be good to him. I'll always put him first, Amy. Right there with my sister and my boys. I mean it."

She shakes her head. "I don't know."

"I am not asking for your permission. I just want you to know that this is what I am going to do. That I am going to try to get him back and I know you have his ear so I'm asking you, please, allow him to make his own decision about me."

"I have been trying to protect him not stifle him."

"And I get that but he doesn't have any reason to be worried about me anymore and neither do you. I'll show you."

"Do you love him, Brendan?"

I look at her dead on. "I'm not here grovelling to you because I hate him."

"That is not what I asked. Don't piss me off. I said, do you love Ste?"

"Yes. Yes. Jesus. Of course I do."

-0-

Phase 2. Boss around Douglas

Douglas is feisty and snappy but he does get the job done when asked; one of the world's great followers. He knows how to carry out a command. He was a solid drug pusher at one stage, a decent spy and a surprisingly brilliant travel advisor when asked.

I need all these skills so I catch him while he is out on a run around the village. I fall in step with him, dressed in a black combo of tracksuit bottoms, hoodie and beanie hat.

He practically jumps out of his skin when I grin at him.

"Shit Brendan!"

"That seems to be the chorus of the day." I mutter. "Thought I'd join you for a run."

"I'm nearly done, actually." He says, slowing down a little.

"Liar. Keep jogging."

"Shit. Is this because of what I told you yesterday?"

"Wanted to kick me when I was down?"

He stops.

"Keep jogging, Douglas."

He obeys. Good boy. You can't untrain a trained soldier.

"So I have a favour to ask you." I say.

"I told you already. I'm not into any shady stuff anymore, Brendan."

"I know and I am not asking you to do anything that I wouldn't ask my own friend to do for me. I don't trust many people Doug but I trust you."

I'm not even lying.

"That's not filling me with hope. I am in my second year at the college, Brendan. I'm concentrating on my studies now."

"What are you doing again?"

"Business studies."

"Yawn." I say. "I've got three jobs for you."

"What makes you think I'll do them?"

"Must I remind you of my sitcom idea? A copper and a criminal under one roof."

"You can't intimidate me with Ethan again."

"Course I can but I also give you my word that this is the last time I'll blackmail you."

"Your word means nothing."

"Au contraire, Dougie-boy. My word means everything. Have I ever lied to you?"

He says nothing for a while as our feet hit the hard tarmac at a steady pace.

"Okay. I'll take your word."

"Good boy." I say and drop my voice. "Keep this quiet for now, yeah, but I'm selling _Chez Chez _to Warren."

"Why?"

"Because he wants it. Your first job is that I need you to follow him. He has been here, there and everywhere recently. I want to what he is playing at if anything."

"Don't you have people better qualified than me to do that sort of thing?"

"Not anymore. You're it."

"Your second job is to help me to make his acquisition of the club the biggest loss of money in his life."

"I'm not an arsonist."

I laugh at that. "Calm down, soldier. I wouldn't ask you to burn the place down. It's insured anyway. He'd get a bigger and better club with the ashes of what is standing there now if we lit it up."

"So what are you suggesting?

"One step at a time. I'll tell you when the time comes. You won't be alone either."

"I'm assuming that help won't be you."

I smile. "I can't be around when shit goes down."

"Where are you going to be?"

"I think I need a holiday."

"Nice for some."

"And that brings me to your third and final job."

-0-

Phase 3. Avoid Stephen

You ring Cheryl. "Sis."

"Yep." She snaps when she picks up.

"What, you not talking to me now?"

"I'm busy working Brendan and since you and Warren seem to think that this club doesn't need either of you around I have been running it on my own. Saw you jogging around the village with Doug. Did you have a nice time?" She says sarcastically.

Okay so maybe I haven't exactly been present these last few days or for that matter, consistently around for last few months since I was in her majesty's custody for a while there and then had that trip to Ireland to see Paddy and the trip to Italy with Stephen.

"Sorry, Chez. We had some business to discuss." I say. "Look what if I promise you that the first thing I'll do with the money I get from Warren will be to treat you to an all expense paid holiday."

"Have you spoken to him?"

"Yes. Yesterday. He agreed to buy us out. I meant to let you know but you were busy telling me to piss off out of the office when you were with Stephen so."

"How much money?"

"Enough."

"This holiday that you're giving me, it can be anywhere in the world?"

"Yeah."

"I want to take Lynsey."

"Of course."

"What's the catch?"

She knows me well.

I don't know how to put this in a way that will get her to agree.

"What's the catch, Brendan?" She repeats.

"It's for a good cause, Chez."

"On no."

"You'll like it. You'll need to be a bit of an actress though."

"Has this got anything to do with getting Ste back because I told you no games. No messing around. Just be straight with him."

"Yes. Yes. Shit." Bloody sister's who think they know best. "I promise. Look I need you to get the rota at the club back to how it was."

"What do you mean?"

"Put me and Stephen on separate shifts."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

She sighs. I know she has given up on me. Such little faith.

"Fine. You do remember that you have a driving lesson with him today."

"Yes."

-0-

Stephen is waiting at the corner of the cul-de-sac. Same place as usual. Looking good as usual. Giving me that sceptical look as usual.

He gets into the passenger seat and says,

"Hi."

So I say, "Hi," back.

"Shall we go?"

"No." I say.

And then there is silence while I think about what I need to say next.

"Look, Stephen." I say, staring ahead at the steering wheel. "I should have told you this a while ago."

I can feel his eyes boring into my side.

"I think I looked forward to our, uh, these lessons too much. I didn't want them to end. But that was wrong, holding you back."

I dare to look at him.

"You are ready. You don't need any more lessons. So you can go now if you want. Take your test. You'll pass it with flying colours."

He stares blankly at me and then it feels like everything goes into slow motion as he opens the door, steps out of it and walks away.


End file.
